


Scarlet Eyes

by Nienna



Category: Tales of Graces
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Gen, M/M, Medieval Fantasy, Non-Graphic Violence, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 20:02:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 55,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3501095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nienna/pseuds/Nienna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asbel was too soft-hearted for a vampire hunter. It didn't help that Richard was a very unusual vampire.</p><p>On the outskirts of the kingdom of Windor, commoners bar their doors at night, fearing the monsters that lurk in the darkness. Their only hope are the members of the Hunter’s Order, warriors who dedicate their lives to eliminating vampires. It is an indisputable consensus that vampires are vicious beasts, who want nothing more than to prey on helpless humans.</p><p>But Asbel’s beliefs are shattered when he meets Richard, a man who was turned into a vampire against his will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What the Night Hides

Asbel crouched by the foliage, surveying the abandoned building. It was an old mansion, where a powerful noble must’ve lived a long, long time ago. Its owner had likely left the isolated place in exchange for the security of the capital, once he realized the dangers of living so far from the Hunter’s Order.

However, despite its state, the mansion was not empty. Asbel could feel a presence inside, a pulsing energy he had detected miles away. As soon as he sensed it, he started running as fast as he could, hoping to catch his target before it escaped.

But the presence had not budged.

Concealed by overgrown bushes and the moonless night’s darkness, Asbel bit his lip, wondering. He knew his prey could feel him from this distance. Even if its senses were dull and weak, it would’ve been able to detect him long ago. And then, it should have ran away - after all, even his most powerful targets tried to escape when they sensed his presence, so why would this one, barely above average, _wait_ for him?

At first, Asbel had suspected a trap. There might’ve been others, concealing their essence in an attempt to lure Asbel into attacking. But close as he was, he would’ve been able to detect them, no matter how good they were at keeping themselves hidden. His target must be alone.

Why didn’t it flee?

Shaking his head, Asbel dismissed the question. Those creatures’ purposes were none of his business; he only had to kill them. With a deep breath, he rose from his hiding place and dashed silently towards the mansion, hand on the hilt of his sword.

He reached the front door, forcing it open with a powerful kick. Wood splintered, bits and pieces flying into the hall as Asbel stepped inside. His eyes strained to adapt to the new, darker surroundings; thankfully, his night vision was better than that of a normal human’s. Not as good as his enemy’s would be, though.

He waited, the shapes around him growing more and more defined, until Asbel could see the clear signs of decay. The hall, which must’ve been luxurious once, was coated with thick layers of dust and mold. Little furniture remained, and most of it was falling apart. A broken chandelier lay in the middle of the room, its large metallic structure covered in cobwebs. It took some effort to sidestep it without making too much noise on the old floorboards.

As Asbel crept though the house, the presence remained still. His heart fluttered, a knot of apprehension forming in his throat. What if the presence was actually insurmountably powerful, to the point where it had become able to manipulate its aura of strength as a way to fool hunters into attacking? It was extremely unlikely, yet Asbel couldn’t help but tighten his grip on his sword. Room to room, he moved as silently as he could, even while blood pounded in his ears.

The presence was close now, so very close. He had lost count of how many rooms he had passed, all of them falling apart. Asbel was almost used to the smell of dust and mold—

Until his surroundings changed.

The door he had opened led to a smaller room, probably a study. However, its most striking feature wasn’t its size, but how _clean_ it was. All of the dust that covered the rest of the mansion was gone. Not only that, but the furniture was in far better condition: still old, and also mismatched - likely having been brought from other rooms - but… surprisingly usable.

The study had two doors other than the one Asbel stood by. One of them was open, leading to a dark room. The other was closed.

Asbel could feel what waited beyond it.

He took slow steps towards that door, feeling his breath quicken as he grew closer. The presence still refused to move. He reached the door, hand sweating on the grip of his sword. Taking a final, deep breath, he kicked it open.

The room was illuminated by warm yellow candlelight. It flickered, the single flame wavering as the door flung open. A male figure stood by an open window, facing away from Asbel; he had long, golden hair, and a tall, slender frame. The clothes he wore would’ve been fit for royalty, had they not been so battered and worn.

Asbel immediately took on a defensive stance, feet firmly planted on the floor, hand ready to draw his sword. Despite how cool the night was, he felt sweat on his brow. His heart also pounded, but his breath was perfectly even. He had been trained for this. He never panicked in front of an enemy.

Unwilling to risk attacking first, Asbel waited. The candle stopped flicking. And finally, the man turned.

Asbel didn’t know what he had expected of his foe’s face, but it… it wasn’t this. His features were delicate and fair, almost too _pure_ for what he was. And he looked young, as young as Asbel himself, and yet… his expression seemed exhausted, as if it should’ve belonged to an old, dying man. His tired, sunken eyes were fixed on Asbel’s face; their irises had the familiar red tint common to all vampires, but the color was faded, dull, almost imperceptible.

It meant that this man had not drank human blood in a long, long time.

And it meant he was on the verge of death.

Asbel’s grip on his sword loosened. He couldn’t understand. There was a small village nearby - it should’ve been easy for this vampire to feed at will. And yet he didn’t. He didn’t, and he didn’t run when a hunter came for him. Even now, he gave no indication that he would try to escape, or even fight back. _Why?_

“What are you waiting for?”

Asbel flinched, surprised at hearing the man speak. His voice was gentle, but it sounded so weak, barely a whisper. A tired voice… like his eyes.

What _was_ Asbel waiting for?

“Why didn’t you run?” Asbel asked quietly, trying to silence the part of him that already knew the answer. “Don’t you know what I am?”

“A hunter,” the man replied, looking at the floor. “You’re here to kill me. I won’t resist.”

Asbel’s hand dropped from the hilt of his sword, falling by his side. He had expected this response from the moment he saw the man’s eyes, but refused to believe it. That wasn’t how a vampire was supposed to act - they never submitted. They never gave up. When cornered, they always fought to the death, clinging to the small chance they would be able to escape. They were ruthless, bloodthirsty creatures, willing to do anything to survive.

How could Asbel murder a being who offered no resistance?

“Please,” the man muttered, voice shaky, insistent and desperate. “Do it. I can’t… I can’t stand it anymore.”

His lips parted, revealing a pair of pronounced canines. Usually, they wouldn’t be much longer than the average human’s, but they were supposed to extend when a vampire was about to feed. The same was said to happen when one was on the edge of starvation.

“How long has it been?” Asbel asked, unbelieving. “Since you… since you last drank…”

The man’s gaze fell again. He did not answer.

“Why did you stop? What changed?”

The man looked up, pale red irises reflecting candlelight. When he spoke, his voice almost broke, “I can’t end other people’s lives to prolong my own. I can’t live with so much blood on my hands. I’d… I’d rather die.”

Asbel swallowed, his chest tightening. A vampire who refused to kill— could it mean…? “Were you… were you Turned against your will?”

The man looked away, giving a brief, hesitant nod.

Asbel’s eyes widened - he had never heard of a human becoming a vampire by force. Without thinking, he blurted, “Who did it?”

The man bit his lip, muttering, “His name was Cedric.”

Cedric… It sounded familiar, but Asbel couldn’t think of any known vampire who went by that. “Why did he do it? I’ve heard Turning is difficult and painful on both parties. Why would he waste his own blood on someone who doesn’t want to be a vampire?”

“Spite,” the man replied, hands clenching into fists, “His grudges always ran deep. He knew that I… I would hate becoming this more than anything.”

A shiver ran down Asbel’s spine. It sounded like the most horrible kind of torture: going through all the pain involved in Turning, only to wake up as a monster, knowing you could never be the same again and that the only way to survive was to feed on human blood… For a kind-hearted man, nothing could be worse.

And this man truly seemed to be kind.

“What’s your name?” Asbel asked, knowing he was starting something he would likely regret.

The man hesitated, but eventually answered, “Richard.”

“I’m Asbel,” he replied, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Richard.”

The man - Richard - stared at Asbel’s hand as if it was the strangest thing in the world. His gaze hopped between the open palm and Asbel’s face, as if he expected Asbel to change his mind at any moment. Once he was convinced Asbel wouldn’t, he muttered, “You… you want to shake hands with the person you’re about to kill?”

“No. I mean— I _want_ to shake hands with you. But I’m not going to kill you.”

From the way Richard’s eyes widened, it seemed Asbel had said the opposite thing. “But you’re a hunter. You cannot let me live.”

“The reason I have to kill vampires is because they’re dangerous,” he said, withdrawing his hand; it was clear Richard wouldn’t shake it. “But you’re not. I’m sure you wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

Richard’s gaze fell. “I’ve hurt them in the past. When I was turned into… into this monster, I was forced into drinking the blood of dozens of people. You cannot let me go free.” His voice was rising, ridden with desperation.

“I’m not a lawmaker. It’s not in my place to arrest or judge you for any crimes you might’ve committed in the past.” Asbel bit his lip, turning away. “I’m sure you’re not dangerous anymore. So… I’ll leave now.”

“No!” Richard dashed towards him, grabbing his arm and forcing Asbel to face him. “Please. I can’t stand it anymore. This hunger, it’s— it’s tearing me apart. And it only becomes worse with each passing day. Please, Asbel. End this now.”

Richard’s wide eyes, filled with terror, were locked on Asbel’s face. This close, it was shocking how faint the red tint was - Asbel could even see Richard’s original eye color underneath. He really must be nearing the end… it would be a matter of days, a couple weeks at most. And during that time, his pain would only increase, until it culminated in a miserable, agonizing death.

If Asbel left now… he would be condemning Richard to that. But could he really kill him with his own blade? Live with the remorse of ending an innocent life, a life he should’ve been able to protect? There had to be another way. Richard deserved to live. Being turned into a vampire had _not_ been his fault!

Another way. But Richard was _starving_. He needed human blood, yet any normal human would have to die if they wanted to help him.

…Unless the one providing the blood was more than a normal human.

Asbel swallowed, his throat going dry. There was only one solution. It was dangerous, reckless even, but Asbel would rather be called a fool than to stand idle and do nothing. If it meant saving another, then… he would always be willing to risk his own life.

Having come to a decision, he removed his coat, letting it fall to the floor. With shaky hands, he undid the first button of his shirt, pulling on the collar to expose his neck.

“You can drink some of my blood.”

Richard’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening in complete shock. Speechless, all he did was stare at Asbel’s neck, in total disbelief— and anticipation. Yes, as surprised as he was, the glint that surged in his eyes was unmistakable.

“You… you can’t mean it…”

“A hunter’s blood is different than that of a normal human,” Asbel interrupted, trying to keep his voice steady. “There’s some sort of inherent power in it. Even if you only drink a little, it should be enough to… sate you.”

Richard’s eyes remained locked on Asbel’s neck, but instead of approaching, he took a step back. “I… I cannot. Asbel, I’m not sure if I’m able to hold myself back. Not after so long. What if I end up…?”

“You’re not gonna kill me by accident,” Asbel replied, wishing he felt as confident as he sounded. “I… I trust you, Richard. If you went that long without giving in to the temptation of attacking someone to drink their blood, then I’m sure you can do it.” Or so Asbel hoped. If something went wrong… no, he couldn’t back down now. His decision had been made.

Richard, however, shook his head. “This is different. I… I can’t risk it. I can’t…” He drifted off, still staring longingly at Asbel’s neck.

“It’s fine,” Asbel insisted, taking a step forward. “If you drink too much, I’ll just push you away. Besides, as I hunter, I can stand losing a lot more blood than a normal person.” He forced an awkward smile. “At worst, I’ll just be a little light-headed.”

Richard hesitated, gaze shifting between Asbel’s face and his neck, as if trying to make sure he was indeed willing to do this. Richard must’ve thought Asbel had lost his mind, but in his situation, it would be a hard offer to deny. Eventually, his gaze fell to the floor, and he gave a weak nod. Richard, too, knew this was his last chance.

He took small, nervous steps towards Asbel. Watching Richard’s approach, Asbel’s heart fluttered with apprehension. _It’s too late to turn back. I have to do this._

Holding his breath, Asbel tilted his head to one side, exposing his neck further. He realized how much he was sweating, and had to clench his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. Hopefully, Richard wouldn’t notice how anxious he was.

Heavens, what a _terrible_ idea.

Richard stopped in front of him, his body only a couple inches from Asbel’s own. Slowly, he leaned in, until his lips touched Asbel’s neck. Their coldness sent a shiver down his spine. After drinking blood, a vampire’s body temperature rose close to a human’s; but the longer they went without it, the colder their bodies grew. Given how icy Richard’s lips felt, Asbel wondered how he wasn’t shivering. Could he even feel cold?

Richard’s lips parted, brushing over Asbel’s skin. Despite their temperature, they were… soft. As embarrassing as it was to admit, it felt good - almost as if Richard was kissing his neck. Asbel bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep himself focused. This wasn’t the time to space out.

A moment later, he felt a prickling sensation as Richard’s teeth pressed against his skin. Pain flared for a second; and then, it was gone.

Asbel could barely describe what he felt next.

Euphoria. The entire room seemed to spin. His vision went blurry, his hands tingled, his knees became weak. He couldn’t move his limbs, he couldn’t see, he couldn’t _feel_ anything other than an overpowering, bizarre pleasure. Blood pounded in his ears, louder and louder, the sound of _his own blood_ leaving his veins, being drained into Richard’s body.

On and on it went, his life force being sucked out of him, while he was powerless to stop it. Asbel had heard about the effects of being bitten by a vampire; hunters were told of how dangerous it was, of how it always meant losing the battle… and your life. How foolish had Asbel been, to think he would have the strength to interrupt it, the willpower to push Richard away. He was completely at his mercy. If Richard wanted, he could kill him then and there.

Terror mixed with the euphoria. What if it had all been a ploy, an elaborate trap to make him submit? What if Richard kept going, drinking every last drop of his blood, until Asbel fell at his feet, dead? He couldn’t die here, alone in the middle of nowhere, not with all the hopes and expectations the hunters had placed on him. He couldn’t leave all the people who needed him behind!

And right then, while Asbel was being consumed by ecstasy and desperation, Richard suddenly stopped.

Asbel gasped. It felt like being hit by a wall of ice. His body was cold, so cold, and so weak he could barely stand. His head pounded, his dizziness so great he thought he would drop to the ground. The next thing he heard was a _thump_ , and when he opened his eyes, he expect to find himself looking at the ceiling.

Instead, he was still standing, while Richard was the one kneeling on the floor.

A sudden rush of adrenaline made Asbel overcome his dizziness. What had gone wrong? He dropped by Richard’s side and grabbed his shoulders, resisting the urge to shake him. “Richard, are you okay?”

Richard trembled softly when Asbel touched him. Blond hair hid most of his face; Asbel could only see his lips, half-parted, dripping red. Richard ran his tongue over them, licking the blood, and mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re— what are you sorry about? Are you okay or not?”

“I’m… I’m fine.” His breathing was ragged; he licked his lips again. “I’m sorry, I’m just… overwhelmed.”

Asbel breathed in relief. “It’s okay. You… drank a lot of blood.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, voice shaky, eyes still veiled by his hair. “I lost control. I meant to stop earlier, but… I couldn’t. I’m so sorry, Asbel.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Asbel said, giving Richard’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’m only a little light-headed, anyway.” An obvious lie, but Richard was too dazed to notice.

Richard looked up, meeting Asbel’s gaze. His eyes… were different. Now, instead of dull and pale, they were a deep scarlet, the color so vibrant it seemed to glow in the candlelit room.

It was a terrifying and beautiful sight.

“Thank you,” he whispered through those reddened lips, “Thank you, Asbel.”

For some reason, Asbel’s heart skipped a beat. “I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he stammered awkwardly, not knowing what else to say. “I… I should probably get going now.” Wary of his blood loss, he stood up slowly, careful not to worsen his dizziness.

Richard, however, grabbed his sleeve, stopping him mid-motion. “Y-You’re leaving?”

“Um… yeah. I’m a hunter, and most vampires aren’t as nice as you, so… I still have work to do.” Well, for now he would just head to an inn and sleep until he no longer felt so faint, but eventually, he would need to return to his job. “You don’t need to worry, though. I’ll come back in six months or so. Then, you can…” - Asbel swallowed - “drink my blood again.”

Richard froze, his eyes widening. “Six months?”

“I’ll try to, though it might be a little more. I’m sorry, but depending on where the Hunter’s Order needs me, it might be longer. I promise it won’t take more than a year, though. You can survive that long without any blood, right?”

Richard stood up brusquely, nearly knocking Asbel off-balance. “ _That_ was your plan?” He blurted, almost a scream. “I might be able to survive six months, even a year. But when I last stopped drinking human blood, the hunger began after _two days_. A week later, and I was already in pain. After a month, I wanted to _die_. And now, you’re asking me to go through it again?”

Asbel’s eyes widened. “I… I’m not… Maybe it won’t be so bad this time. I can try to come back earlier. I—”

“I’m sorry, Asbel,” he cut in, voice shaky, “But I cannot agree with it. I thank you for what you have done for me, from the bottom of my heart. But if my life is going to remain the same, alone in this forsaken place while agonizing in pain… then I’d rather you end it now.”

Asbel paled, feeling his breath catch in his throat. Kill Richard? But he had just risked his life to prevent that! Had he given up half of his blood only to go back to where he started? No… there had to be another way. Yet another way.

“I… I’ll think of something,” Asbel muttered, looking at his feet. What could he even do? “Can I sit? I’m a little dizzy.”

Richard fetched him a chair, apologizing again, and left Asbel to himself while he waited by the window. He seemed to be watching the stars, like he had been doing when Asbel arrived. Alone in that mansion, it was probably the only thing he could do to pass his time.

Sighing, Asbel reached for the small waterskin he always kept on himself - his larger canteen was in his bag, left among the bushes outside the mansion - and drained most of its contents. He was also hungry, but unfortunately, that would need to wait. For now, he had to think.

Sitting back, he stared at the ceiling, wondering what other options he had. Every few moments, he shot a glance at Richard, who never left his spot by the window. How had he lived for so long, with no company at all? It was surprising he hadn’t gone mad. Asbel probably would.

No one should ever be left alone, suffering by himself.

“I think I know what we can do.”

Richard nearly jumped at Asbel’s words. He turned towards him, eyes wide with anticipation.

Asbel continued, “You can travel with me. You can drink my blood whenever you need to, though I’d prefer it if you could… well, take a little less of it. Maybe a third of what you drank today, twice a week? Since I have hunter’s blood, it will hopefully be enough to keep you from ever going hungry.”

Richard nodded, enthralled.

“Since you’re a vampire, you should have as much strength and stamina as me. You can probably keep up with my travels, and even fight if it’s needed. Can you use a sword?”

Richard nodded again.

“That’s good. I, um, well… I still have a lot of towns on the outskirts of the country that I need to visit, make sure they’re safe. I’ll probably end up having to kill a lot of other vampires. Would you… mind that?”

Richard’s gaze fell. “Not at all. I hold no love for my kind.”

“Okay. We’re weeks from the center of the country, where the Hunter’s Order is. Since I can’t go back until I finish patrolling this area, that means it’s going to be a while until I can take you there. But I plan to, eventually. Then you can stay with them. I’m sure they will take care of you.”

Richard paled, losing all the enthusiasm he had displayed when Asbel began speaking. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Yeah! By then, you will have been traveling with me for a while. It will be proof enough that you can be trusted. Besides, even if they can’t bring themselves to trust you, it’s not like you can try anything when you’re surrounded by hunters.” He paused, scratching his head. “At the Order, there’ll be the issue of giving you blood, but I’m sure some hunters will volunteer to help you. Getting bitten by you doesn’t hurt, after all.” In fact, it was quite the opposite; Asbel couldn’t help but blush at the thought.

“I… I hope you’re right,” Richard muttered, hesitant. A moment later, he straightened, “I’m sorry. I must sound ungrateful, after all you have done for me - and after all you’re offering to do.” Pausing, he smiled softly, his face lighting up. “Thank you so much, Asbel. I am forever in your debt.”

Asbel was taken aback by Richard’s expression, suddenly so radiant, so warm. It felt good to see him smiling at last.

“You’re welcome, Richard,” he replied, flashing a grin of his own.

Yes… Richard deserved a chance at happiness. Asbel’s decision had been a dangerous one, but deep down, he knew he wouldn’t regret it.


	2. Journey’s Beginning

They did not spend a second longer at the abandoned mansion.

Staying the night was not an option. Richard was anxious to leave, and Asbel disliked the gloomy aura in the place. They would do much better at an inn, even if it took them an hour or so of walking. Thankfully, Richard had no need to pack - his only belongings were the clothes on his body and a hooded cloak. It would be helpful in concealing his red eyes once they arrived at the village.

“We’ll get you new clothes tomorrow,” Asbel said as he chewed on some dried meat, taken from his backpack. After losing much of his blood, he couldn’t wait to eat at the village. “Something simple and good for traveling. You would draw too much attention in those fancy clothes you’re wearing. I bet the people around here have never seen a noble in their lives.”

Richard nodded, his expression sharp and attentive. It was amazing how different he was from before; he had so much more energy now, as if new life had been instilled within him. And it had, in a way - in the form of Asbel’s blood.

The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

They walked for the better part of an hour, making little conversation. Asbel tried asking about Richard’s past, but his answers were either vague or absent. Despite his recovery, Richard was still on the quieter side - and a bit too gloomy for Asbel’s taste. Well, maybe that was something they could work on during their travels together.

By the time they arrived at the village, it was well past midnight. All the houses were dark, with every single door and window closed - the way it always was in the outskirts of the kingdom. Here, the night held too many dangers for anyone to be out and about.

The inn was easy to spot, being the only two-story building in the tiny village. It was as dark and silent as everything else. Asbel knew every door and window would be bolted.

They approached, and Asbel knocked heavily on the front door, shouting, “Hunter! Hunter here!”

It took a few moments of knocking and shouting before he heard hurried footsteps, and a deep, tense voice sounded from inside, “Badge!”

Asbel reached into his shirt, fishing out a medallion he wore on a chain around his neck. “Here.”

The innkeeper opened his peephole, revealing an oil lamp and a pair of narrow, hard eyes. Asbel held out the medallion, a metallic disk with the Hunter’s Order crest engraved on the front. The innkeeper blinked. “Press it against your forehead.”

Asbel frowned. “I’m already touching it with my fingers. If I was a vampire, the adamantine metal would burn my skin just the same.”

“But everyone says hunters are supposed to press their badges against their foreheads!”

 _Annoying superstitions_ , Asbel thought, and brought the medallion to his forehead. If anyone from the Order saw him doing this, they’d laugh for sure. “Is that enough?”

“Yes,” the innkeeper beamed, “A hunter! Finally, a hunter has come to our poor old village!”

Asbel saw the innkeeper bend down, and heard the sound of locks opening and bolts being removed. Moments later, the door came ajar, revealing a large middle-aged man. Behind him, a middle-aged woman, likely his wife, was holding a battle staff. She relaxed when she saw Asbel.

“Welcome to our humble inn, Master Hunter,” the woman said, smiling. “I’m Sonia, and this is my husband, Warrick. We apologize for our wariness, but out here, we have to be careful.” She paused, furrowing her brows. “Is that your companion?”

Asbel had almost forgotten about Richard; his hunger must’ve been slowing his brain. Thankfully, Richard’s hood was pulled down, covering his eyes. “Yes,” Asbel replied, smiling awkwardly. “His name is Richard, and I am Asbel. We’re looking for a room to spend the night.”

“One room?” She raised her eyebrows, gaze fixed on Richard.

Asbel’s pulse quickened. He knew there was no way for any normal human to know what Richard was - at least not without looking at his eyes. But what if the innkeepers thought his hood was suspicious?

“Just one,” Asbel muttered, feeling cold sweat on his brow.

Sonia’s eyes narrowed, her gaze never leaving Richard. Finally, she leaned down, and whispered in Asbel’s ear, “Is your companion…”

Asbel’s heart almost stopped.

“…Your secret lover?”

Asbel choked on the vehement _No!_ he had been about to say. Instead, his jaw dropped and he sputtered, “M-My _what_?”

Sonia smirked, nudging Asbel’s ribcage with her elbow. “I guess a hunter isn’t allowed to get caught up in love, eh? But don’t worry, we’ll keep your secret, as long as you promise not to slack off in order to get cozy with your _‘friend’_!” Another nudge, so strong Asbel gasped. “Killing vampires first, hanky panky second, you hear me?”

Shocked as he was, Asbel could only nod absently, wide-eyed.

“Good boy,” she added, winking. “My husband will show you both to your room now.”

Still unable to believe their conversation, Asbel followed the massive innkeeper up a flight of stairs. He could only hope Richard hadn’t overheard Sonia’s words.

They were led to a room on the far end of the second floor. Warrick unlocked the door, and with a proud smile, presented what must’ve been the inn’s best room. It was spacious and well-decorated, with a single large bed and a private bathing chamber. Far more luxury than Asbel had expected to find in such a small village.

“Would you like your bath prepared now or in the morning?” Warrick asked after showing them the room.

“In the morning is fine. It’s pretty late now.” He glanced at Richard, who nodded in agreement. “Though… if there’s anything to eat, I’d appreciate that.”

“Of course! I’d be happy to prepare you a meal, master hunter. Any preference on the menu?”

“I wouldn’t ask you to cook at this hour,” Asbel said, surprised at the innkeeper’s enthusiasm. Either he was _very_ glad to finally have a hunter in town, or he was a little bonkers. “I’ll just eat whatever leftovers you have in the kitchen.”

“Well, if you’re eager to go to bed, I can heat up what’s left of supper’s stew for you. Would you like me to bring it up?”

“I’ll eat in the kitchen, if that’s fine.”

Warrick bowed. “It should be ready in a few minutes, master hunter.” With that, he left, closing the door after him.

Asbel sighed, walking over to a nearby chair to unload his backpack, traveling cloak, and sword. “Sorry for that.”

“For what?” Richard replied, finally pushing back his hood. His eyes still shone red.

“You didn’t hear…? Um, never mind then. I mean… I hope you don’t mind sharing a bed.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Okay.” Asbel scratched the back of his head, unsure of what to say. “I’ll go downstairs now. You can make yourself comfortable, or… do you want to eat with me?”

Gaze falling, Richard shook his head. “Food has lost its taste since I became this.”

His tone made Asbel’s chest tighten. “I… I see. I’m sorry.”

Richard smiled softly in reply, though his eyes remained sorrowful. Without another word, Asbel turned, opened the door, and left.

By the time he stepped into the kitchen, the room was already filled with the pleasant fragrance of spices. Warrick stood by an oven, stirring a large pot. “Right on time. It’s almost ready.”

Bowl and spoon had been laid on a table, and Asbel took a seat. “It smells delicious,” he remarked, feeling hunger tug at his stomach. “Where’s Sonia?”

“I’m the one who cooks,” Warrick stated proudly.

“I mean, I wanted to ask her about something. I need some clothes.”

Warrick glanced at him over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow.

“For my friend, I mean. He needs new traveling clothes. Nothing fancy, but comfortable and durable. And by tomorrow, if possible.”

“Of course. We’ll get new clothes for your… _friend_.” He chuckled, taking Asbel’s bowl and serving him a generous portion of the steaming dish. As Warrick placed the full bowl back in front of Asbel, he leaned forward, whispering suggestively, “By the way, if you and your friend need anything else for tonight… I can also give you a nice bottle of oil for your needs.”

Asbel almost choked on his first spoonful. “That’s… very kind of you,” he sputtered, trying not to grow too flustered. “I don’t think it will be necessary, though.”

“So you already have some, eh?” He laughed heartily. “Ah, the joys of being young. Always ready for a round, even in the midst of hunting vampires.”

Asbel forced a laugh, trying not to dwell on the mental image of him and Richard… _‘ready for a round’_. It left his face feeling warm, and he tried to blame it on the stew.

When he returned to his room, Richard was already in bed, lying on his side and facing away from the door. As Asbel stepped inside, Richard turned to glance at him from over his shoulder, giving one of his soft smiles when he saw who it was. Asbel returned it, and Richard turned again, resettling himself on the bed.

Richard seemed to be wearing a night robe, and Asbel found a similar one under his pillow. Bless those innkeepers. Stripping quickly - and hoping Richard wouldn’t turn right in that moment to find him naked - he dropped his clothes on a chair and donned the robe. It was simple, but well-made and comfortable. The same could be said of the mattress, blankets, and pillows. A far better inn than Asbel had expected to find in this desolate place.

The bed was big enough for both of them, but sometimes, when Asbel shifted around, he accidentally brushed against Richard’s back or legs. He muttered flushed apologies every time, to which Richard replied with sleepy reassurances that it was fine. After a while, Richard stopped replying. His soft, steady breathing showed he was asleep.

Asbel fell asleep soon after, his knee gently touching the back of Richard’s thigh.

Came morning, Asbel awakened to the sound of knocking. He opened his eyes quickly, alertness coming to him immediately; even in the safety of an inn, his hunter instincts remained. By his side, Richard was shifting among the blankets, making the occasional sleepy _‘mmm’_. For a vampire, it was hard to wake while the sun was still high.

Letting Richard get some more rest, Asbel quietly slipped out of bed and opened the door. Sonia was outside, holding a bag and grinning.

“So you’re the couple’s morning guy?” she asked in hushed tones, elbowing Asbel’s ribs. “Your honey’s still drained after a night of action?”

Asbel forced a laugh, knowing his cheeks must’ve been reddening again. “Good morning, Mrs. Sonia.”

“Good morning, lovebird hunter.” She handed him the bag. “Here’s what you asked for last night. Traveling clothes for your companion.”

“Already? That’s surprisingly fast. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. The tailor was happy to work for a hunter. Said he’d make any necessary adjustments, too, though they should fit well without any.”

Asbel nodded, taking a step away from the door to reach for his bag.

“If you’re thinking of paying, forget it. No one in their right mind would charge a hunter. Your service is worth more than any coin.”

Asbel, bowing his head, smiled. “Thank you. I only do my job.”

“And we do ours,” she replied with a smile of her own. “Should we bring up the hot water for your bath? Or would you like breakfast first?”

Asbel’s stomach rumbled. “Breakfast, please.”

“My husband will bring up a tray in a moment. I’ll have the bath ready when you two are done eating.” Smiling again, she left.

Asbel waited, yawning. There was no point in waking Richard now, given he had no interest in food. When Warrick arrived with the tray, Asbel thanked him, closed the door, and sat down to gobble up both portions.

Once he was done, he climbed back on the bed, intent on rousing Richard. He was already half-awake, looking up at Asbel through long fluttering lashes. The scarlet in his eyes was no longer as glaring, but the color was still vivid. “Good morning,” he said softly, voice slurred by sleepiness.

Asbel felt a warmth in his chest. “Good morning.” Unconsciously, he reached out, with the intention of brushing a golden lock from Richard’s face; he caught himself mid-motion, his fingers almost touching Richard’s cheek. What was he doing? They weren’t actually lovers. In fact, they barely knew each other.

Richard watched his hand curiously. Embarrassed, Asbel withdrew it. “The innkeeper said she’ll have baths ready soon. If you want to, I mean.”

“I’d love to,” he replied, slowly sitting up. His night robe had opened a little during the night, revealing part of his chest. Pale skin, unnaturally so, but somehow… it suited him. On Richard, it was beautiful.

Asbel wondered why he felt so drawn to this man. Was it because Richard drank his blood? Surviving a vampire’s bite was uncommon; surviving a vampire’s bite _and_ allowing said vampire to live was unheard of. Was Asbel suffering side-effects? Could that explain the reason he felt the way he did?

“…Asbel?”

Almost jumping in surprise, Asbel’s gaze flew from Richard’s chest - _he had been staring!_ \- to his face. “S-Sorry, I spaced out. What did you say?”

Richard smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t worry. It wasn’t important.”

“Please. I want to hear it.” Above all, he didn’t want Richard to think he was uninterested in him.

“I was just rambling about how glad I was to bathe in an actual tub, and in hot water. For the past months, I could only wash myself in a freezing river.”

“Oh.” Well, Richard was surprisingly clean given that. “Wait… sorry to ask, but can you feel cold?”

For a moment, Richard looked away. “I do. But… it’s different. I don’t shiver, and I know I cannot die of hypothermia. However, I always feel cold, like my body no longer warms itself. It’s… not very pleasant.” He paused. “Until last night.”

Asbel swallowed. “Drinking my blood helped?”

“Yes. It… it made me feel very warm.” Richard’s cheeks reddened slightly. “Even now, I’m still… I believe it’s because we shared a bed. Your body warmth kept me…” He paused, the color in his cheeks deepening. Straightening himself, he continued in a steadier voice, “I’m sure taking a hot bath will help keep the cold at bay, as well.”

Asbel found himself nodding. He certainly wouldn’t mind sleeping on the same bed as Richard again in order to keep him warm. His mind started trailing off once more, but before it could go far, a knock on the door brought him back.

It was Warrick, announcing that their bath was ready. Two tubs filled with hot water waited them in the bathing chamber. Blushing, Asbel insisted for Richard to go first, lest him offer for them to bathe together. _That_ would be too much to handle.

“Are you sure, Asbel?” Richard asked in reply. “The water will be cold by then.”

“It’s fine. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable by… um… you know.”

Richard’s eyes widened a fraction, his cheeks coloring slightly. After a pause, he said, “There are two tubs, so it won’t be a problem. I’d rather we bathe together than have one of us be forced to wash with cold water.”

Not knowing what else he could say, Asbel nodded awkwardly, and followed Richard into the bathing chamber.

The air inside was warm and heavy with moisture. Other than the tubs, which were uncomfortably close to each other, the room had two long wooden benches. Richard walked to one of them and began stripping; it took Asbel a moment before he managed to force his gaze elsewhere. He all but flung his night robe at the other bench and immediately hopped into one of the tubs, splashing enough water to make Richard gasp in surprise.

Automatically, Asbel turned towards the sound, and found Richard fully naked, about to enter the other tub. Asbel couldn’t help but notice Richard’s slender body, smooth pale skin covering subtle lines of muscle, a nice contrast with his reddening face—

Asbel realized he had been staring. _Again_. And this time, Richard caught him doing it.

Feeling his own face flush, Asbel turned away, almost submerging his head in the water out of embarrassment. He considered stuttering an apology, but that would only make it worse. Better to let it go, and hope Richard would forget it soon. Even though Asbel definitely wouldn’t.

To keep his mind busy, he took a bar of soap and began scrubbing himself. From the sound coming from Richard’s direction, he seemed to be doing the same. Silence dragged on, until it became too much for Asbel to bear.

“This soap smells nice, right?” It was the first thing that came to his mind.

Richard took a moment to answer, which almost made Asbel panic. But finally, he said, “It smells very pleasant. Lavender, I believe, but different from any kind I’ve ever seen. Maybe it only grows around this area.”

Asbel breathed in relief. “So you know a lot about soaps?”

“Not in particular. But I enjoy fragrances.”

“Fragrances, eh? What’s your favorite one?”

“Roses,” he replied cheerfully.

Asbel tried to imagine Richard smelling like roses. It would suit him, he thought. But then again, even without any fragrance, Richard smelled pretty good.

“Are there any fragrances you enjoy, Asbel?”

Once more, Asbel automatically turned towards him. Richard was looking at his direction, smiling softly. The tub was deep enough that only his head, neck and shoulders could be seen.

“I… I kinda like the smell of apples,” Asbel said, scratching his cheek. “I guess it’s not exactly a fragrance, but it reminds me of home.”

“There are fragrances made from apples. They’re sweet and refreshing… I think they would suit you, Asbel.”

Looking at Richard’s smile, Asbel couldn’t help but be thankful they were bathing together. However awkward it had been at first, this short conversation made it more than worth it.

Richard placed his elbow on the edge of his tub, resting his chin on the back of his hand. “You said apples remind you of home… are you from Lhant, Asbel?”

The question took him unaware. “You know Lhant?”

“I have never been there, but I’ve heard it produces most of Windor’s supply of apples.”

“Really? Most of Windor’s supply? I had no idea, and I was born there. You’re well informed.” He leaned his head back against the edge of the tub. “Where are you from?”

Richard hesitated before answering, “Barona.”

“You’re from the _capital_?” Asbel blurted, jaw dropping. “But it’s right next to the Order! How the hell did you get Turned?” No vampire would ever manage to get anywhere close to the capital without getting shot down by an army of hunters!

Richard looked away, sliding deeper into the water. “I wasn’t in the capital when it happened.”

Asbel’s eyes widened. “But why would you leave Barona? It has everything, and it’s the safest city in the entire continent.” He was sure Richard had been nobility, yet nobles from the capital rarely traveled.

Richard was silent, looking down at the water. Moments later, he muttered, “I’m sorry. I’d rather not talk about this.”

Asbel froze. He had been a fool; _of course_ Richard wouldn’t want to talk about the circumstances involved in his Turning. “No, I’m… I’m the one to blame. It was insensitive of me to ask. I’m sorry, Richard.”

Richard turned towards him, wearing a smile that was belied by the sorrow in his eyes. “It’s fine, Asbel. Don’t worry.”

But Asbel did worry, and he kept worrying as he went back to scrubbing himself with soap. He realized he _really_ wanted to know how Richard had become a vampire, not out of curiosity, but in order to be able to comfort him. Maybe one day Richard would trust him enough to tell.

They continued to bathe in silence. Asbel was done first, and he went back to the bedroom to change while Richard finished washing his hair. He was already fully clothed when Richard stepped in, wrapped in a towel.

“Y-Your new clothes are on the bed,” he blurted, trying not to let his eyes wander; Richard had very nice legs. “I hope they’ll fit.”

Asbel stared at the wall while he waited for Richard to get changed. In the end, the clothes turned out to suit Richard far better than Asbel had expected. The pants were a bit loose, but tucked into Richard’s high boots, they looked rather good. The long-sleeved shirt was a near-perfect fit, made better by a belt around the waist. Despite their simple design, they were obviously well-made.

“They look great on you, Richard.”

Richard smiled. “Thank you. They’re rather comfortable.”

“Your old stuff isn’t too bulky, so we can keep it if you want. I’ll get you a backpack, too.” Hopping off the bed, Asbel took his own bag, and handed Richard his cloak. “But first, we’ll go out and get you a sword. I think I saw a blacksmith’s shop when we got here last night.”

The morning was bright, bright enough that Richard could barely see through the sun’s glare. He had to pull his hood low and cling to Asbel’s arm as they walked through the village. To avoid questions, Asbel wore his hunter’s badge in plain sight; it drew far more attention than the hooded figure walking by his side. Thankfully, despite the stares, no one would ever bother a hunter going about on his business.

There indeed was a blacksmith’s shop, not very far from the inn. Though then again, nothing was very far when it came to a small village. They heard the sound of pounding metal from outside, and were greeted by a teenage boy - likely an apprentice - when they entered. As soon as he saw the medallion hanging from Asbel’s neck, he ran to call his master.

The blacksmith was a tall woman who must’ve been in her early forties, powerfully built from years of working her craft. “Master hunter,” she declared formally, bowing, “How may we help you?”

“I would like to take a look at your finished swords, if you have any for sale.”

“Oh, we certainly do,” she replied, smiling. “Our supply can never run out. Here in the border villages, every adult owns a weapon, even farmers and innkeepers. Please come with me.”

She showed them to an impressive display of many different kinds of swords. “Are you buying a blade for yourself, master hunter?”

“For my companion,” Asbel said, gesturing towards Richard. He was still wearing his hood, but he had pushed it back a bit so he could look at the swords. Asbel had to admit the blades were remarkable, both in number and quality. “Do people in your village attempt to fight vampires?”

“ _Fight_ vampires?” She laughed. “We could only wish. No, master hunter, our weapons just make us slightly harder to kill. If we’re going to die either way, better to do it with dignity.”

Asbel wasn’t surprised. A normal blade could injure a vampire, but the wound would heal almost immediately. Only weapons made from adamantine could inflict lasting - or killing - wounds. Richard’s sword could help slow down a foe, but it would mostly be for self-defense.

“Asbel, I believe I have made my choice,” Richard muttered beside him.

He was holding a long, slender blade, with an elaborate hilt that could’ve earned approving nods even back in the Order.

“Your companion made a good choice,” the blacksmith said, “That’s one of the best rapiers I’ve ever made. Light, fast, and precise.”

“It truly is marvelous,” Richard murmured, thrusting the blade in the air, “I never thought I would find such impeccable handiwork this far from Barona.”

The blacksmith’s eyes widened. “You’re from the capital?”

“Um, that’s the Order’s business,” Asbel intervened, nudging Richard with his elbow. “We’ll take the rapier.” He reached into his bag for his coin purse.

“Please, there is no need to pay. I would never take gald from a hunter.” She bowed, more deeply than before. “Is there anything else you require? Sharpening for your sword?”

“My sword doesn’t need sharpening, but thank you. I believe this is all we need.”

“Our humble shop is honored to serve the Order. Travel swiftly, master hunter.” She gave a final bow, and gestured to her apprentice, who led Asbel and Richard outside.

Once they were alone, Richard inched closer, whispering, “I’m sorry for my blunder. I was distracted.”

“What? Oh, you mean when you mentioned Barona?” He took Richard’s arm and began walking, lest they draw even more attention by standing still. “Don’t worry about it. No one would question a hunter, or a hunter’s companion. But people from all over the kingdom are fascinated by the capital, so if you even mention it, they’re sure to bombard you with questions.”

“Really? I wasn’t aware. Barona is beautiful, but it’s just a city.”

“ _Just_ a city?” Asbel laughed. “I guess if you’ve lived there all your life, you end up taking it for granted.”

Richard’s shoulders sagged and he looked away. He did not reply.

“Wait, Richard, I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“No, Asbel. It’s true. Those who live in the capital do take it for granted.”

Richard said no more. Unconsciously, Asbel pulled him closer, holding him tightly as they kept on walking.

After a while, they were back at the inn. “We’ll get you a backpack and I’ll restock my provisions. Then we travel east.”

“East?”

Asbel nodded. “I can feel a vampire’s presence in that direction. It’s far, but I hadn’t felt it last night, so it might be coming towards this village. It will likely turn back when it detects me, but we can get some ground on it while it’s still daytime.”

The innkeepers were happy to provide them with a backpack and supplies, all fetched from local villagers who had jumped at the opportunity to help a hunter. In less than an hour, they were on the road, the village dwindling in size behind them.

The day was bright and sunny. It lifted Asbel’s spirits, but also drained Richard’s strength. While he was able to keep up with Asbel’s pace at first, he began to struggle as the sun rose higher.

“We should stop and rest,” Asbel said, placing a hand on Richard’s shoulder. “Get off the road and wait under a tree for an hour or so.”

“I’m sorry,” Richard muttered between pants, “I’m getting in your way.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s only for a bit, and I can use the opportunity to have lunch.”

Taking Richard’s arm, Asbel led him towards a particularly large tree. They both sat under the shade, leaning against the trunk. Richard pulled back his hood, squinting his eyes at the sunlight.

“You can keep the hood if you want,” Asbel said, “Today must be too bright for you.”

“It _is_ rather bright, but the hood was getting stuffy.”

“Really? So you’re actually feeling _warm_ for once?”

Richard smiled. “For the first time in months.”

Asbel returned Richard’s smile, feeling a different kind of warmth in his chest. “If it’s too bright, you can keep your eyes closed. Maybe napping could help you recover your strength? Or…” He paused, hesitating. Tonight, they might be fighting a vampire. If Richard drank his blood and he became too weak…

No, it would be fine if it was only a little.

“Asbel?”

He swallowed. “I was wondering if some of my blood could help you.”

Richard’s eyes widened despite the sun, his gaze fixing on Asbel’s neck. For a moment, his lips parted, revealing small canines that seemed to be growing in size. But then he shook his head and looked away. “Thank you, Asbel, but what you gave me yesterday should be enough to last a while. I… I don’t want to be a burden on you.”

“It’s fine, Richard. It wouldn’t be a burden.” Asbel’s heart raced as he spoke. “I can spare a little if you think it might help.”

Richard hesitated. “It might, but… I could barely control myself last time. It’s true I was starving, and yet… I’m afraid that even if I’m not hungry, I would end up drinking too much, and leave you exhausted.”

“I see,” Asbel muttered, trying not to think about his disappointment. “Well, maybe you could try napping while I eat, then? I’ll watch over you.”

“It might help. I do tend to feel quite sleepy during the day,” he said, smiling. “Thank you, Asbel.”

Richard leaned his head against the trunk, closing his eyes. His expression was relaxed and peaceful; it brought a smile to Asbel’s lips. Quietly, Asbel took some food from his bag, and ate while listening to the soft sound of Richard’s breath.

Hopefully, Richard would have good dreams.


	3. First Encounter

Asbel opened his eyes to an orange-tinted landscape.

For a moment, he only blinked in confusion, trying to recall where he was. Sitting against a tree, not far from the road, the sun setting on the horizon. By his side, Richard slept, his head resting on Asbel’s shoulder.

Asbel remembered; they had left the village, and paused for lunch. Asbel had only meant to nap for a few minutes, but… well, he _had_ lost a lot of blood the night before. Maybe he was still recovering. Maybe.

Trying not to dwell on it, he shifted, touching Richard’s cheek gently. Asbel was sure Richard hadn’t been leaning on him when he went to sleep, and it was surprising that the weight on his shoulder didn’t wake him up. While Asbel hadn’t been born a light sleeper, his training was supposed to have fixed that. Hunters couldn’t afford to sleep heavily.

Richard mumbled, half-asleep, shifting against Asbel’s shoulder before finally opening his eyes. He blinked slowly, lids heavy, before looking through long yellow lashes to meet Asbel’s gaze.

“Hey,” Asbel whispered, unable to hold back his smile.

Richard’s cheeks colored, and he sat up at once. “I’m sorry. I must’ve fallen while I slept.”

“It’s fine,” Asbel replied, smile widening. “I don’t mind. It’s not like I was awake myself.”

“You were asleep?”

“Yeah,” he scratched his cheek, smile turning sheepish. “I guess I’m still a little tired after yesterday.”

Richard’s gaze fell, and Asbel regretted his words instantly. Way to make Richard feel even more guilty about drinking his blood.

“It’s no big deal,” he blurted, trying to amend the situation, “The presence I felt earlier is still moving towards here. It must not have detected me yet.” It was surprising, in fact; the presence was awfully close. Most vampires would’ve sensed him by then. “We should get ready and move towards it.”

Richard blinked. “Won’t it just run in the opposite direction?”

“A vampire’s ability to detect hunters isn’t as accurate as our ability to detect them. They don’t train as we do, so they are unable to pinpoint a direction. They only have a general sense that a hunter is nearby.” He paused. “Wait, are _you_ able to sense exactly where I am?”

Richard shook his head. “I’m not. But I assumed I was simply defective, and other vampires could do it.”

His tone made Asbel’s chest tighten. “Don’t worry about it. You’re normal.” At least in that one aspect; Richard was unlike any other vampire when it came to everything else. “But this means that if we get separated, you should wait for me to find you rather than looking for me, okay?”

“You think we might get separated today?”

“Maybe. I’ll be running full speed towards the target to make sure it doesn’t escape, and you might not be able to keep up.” Running was something hunters did very, very well.

Richard seemed uncomfortable at the idea, but he nodded. “Then we should go before they detect us.”

They gathered their bags, and once they were ready, the running began. Asbel increased his pace progressively, and to his surprise, Richard was able to keep up with him most of the time. Only when he was almost at full speed did Richard begin lagging behind; Asbel decided to slow down just enough for Richard to catch up. The difference was minor, and it was better not to risk losing him.

Tracking the presence took them into a forest, and Asbel found himself dodging tree trunks, roots and bushes on his way. The sun finished setting and night fell, bathing them in darkness; the stars and the crescent moon’s pale glow did little to illuminate through the trees’ thick canopies. Asbel’s eyes adapted quickly. Richard’s must have done so almost instantly.

The presence was no longer moving. _Finally sensed me_ , Asbel thought. From the way it froze in place, the creature must’ve become terrified, unable to choose which direction to run. It would make Asbel’s job easier.

The forest became denser, branches tugging on their clothes as they ran. They were getting close. In a minute, no, less, they would reach their target. The presence shifted, wavered. By the time it decided to run, it would be too late.

Up ahead, the dark forest opened into a moonlit clearing. Asbel rushed towards it, not thinking twice; his target was beyond it, only a few paces away. So close. He stepped out of the forest and into the clearing, almost there—

The presence flickered.

And _disappeared_.

Asbel gasped, eyes widening, stopping so suddenly that Richard almost ran into him. He froze, heart racing, desperately looking around, trying to process what could have happened. Where had it gone? How could it just disappear?

“Asbel, why—”

Richard’s voice faded. They heard muffled footsteps. Approaching slowly, taking their time. Asbel threw his backpack to the ground, heart in his throat as he took a defensive stance. Richard did the same. They waited.

Figures emerged from the dense forest. They stepped into the clearing, seven people in total, forming a circle around Asbel and Richard. All of them had bright red eyes.

And Asbel couldn’t detect a single vampiric aura.

Hand hovering over the hilt of his sword, Asbel didn’t dare moving an inch. His skin was clammy with cold sweat. He could only stare in dismay as one of them stepped forward; a man with silver hair, eyes so narrow they seemed only slits, lips curled into a cruel smirk.

The man chuckled, baring his sharp canines. “My, my, my. Who would’ve thought that the little hunter wouldn’t be alone.” His voice was soft, his tone mocking. His smirk widened into a grin. “And, of all people, he’s brought the one we have been looking _everywhere_ for. Your uncle will be pleased, Richard!”

“Bryce,” Richard murmured, eyes wide with horror.

Asbel was taught to never look away from a foe, but his shock was so great he couldn’t keep himself from turning to Richard. “You know him?” he blurted, voice wavering with surprise. “Who are these people? Are they vampires?”

The silver-haired man - Bryce - threw his head back and laughed. It was a piercing, terrifying sound. “Hunters are so narrow-minded. Every single one we’ve encountered asked the same questions. Maybe if they weren’t so easily impressed, they would have lasted longer in battle.”

A chill ran down Asbel’s spine, his blood growing cold. “You’ve been luring hunters and killing them.”

“Very perceptive, aren’t we?” Bryce sneered, drawing a pair of claw-like weapons. He pointed one of them towards Asbel in an offensive battle stance. “But now we’ve talked enough.” Addressing his companions, he spoke, “Lyra, you and me will handle the hunter. The rest of you, take Richard.”

And then, without a moment of respite, the vampires sprang into attack.

No time to plan; battle instincts kicking in, Asbel sidestepped to place his back towards Richard’s. “Focus on defense!” was all he could yell before the enemies were upon them.

The first attack came from Bryce, claw slashing straight towards Asbel’s neck. He raised his sword just in time to parry it, pushing Bryce back - but right as Asbel moved for a counter-attack, a dark-haired woman lunged at him. Like Bryce, her face wore a smirk, her sword a blur aiming for Asbel’s heart. Asbel used his sheathe to deflect her attack, swinging his sword to counter, but his blow was interrupted by Bryce’s claw. Bryce sneered as he advanced, forcing Asbel to backstep, increasing the distance between him and Richard.

Asbel had no time to think, or even worry about how Richard was doing. Bryce and the woman - _Lyra?_ \- attacked relentlessly, forcing him to always stay on the defensive. Asbel had never seen vampires so skilled with weapons in his life; they were supposed to be feral creatures, relying on sheer strength and speed to overpower their foes and subdue them with a bite. Vampires didn’t need weapons to fight humans - blades only caused a waste of blood.

And yet Lyra and Bryce were masters. They attacked in perfect unison, timing their advances in a way that Asbel was left with no opportunities to counterattack. They had training, _excellent_ training. Even though Asbel had dispatched far larger groups of vampires before, no fight had ever been as challenging as this.

Asbel gritted his teeth, parrying and sidestepping more blows, wondering when he would have a chance to counterattack. He could hear the sound of swords clashing a few paces to his right, punctuated by grunts and gasps. How was Richard doing? Asbel couldn’t look away from his own battle even for a second, but he had to check. When Lyra sprang at him again, he blocked her attack with a wide swing of his sword, pushing both her and Bryce back; at the same time, Asbel backstepped as far as he could, putting a good amount of distance between him and his foes. And, for a moment, he dared to shoot a glance towards Richard’s direction.

Richard was struggling to hold his ground against five foes. He was skilled with the rapier, more than Asbel had expected, but his enemies also knew how to wield their weapons. Four of them carried swords, and the fifth, a large half-moon axe. During the few seconds Asbel had his eyes on him, Richard suffered multiple wounds, but all of them healed too fast for him to even bleed. That was good. If Richard could keep those five busy while Asbel dispatched Bryce and Lyra…

Bryce lunged at him once more, and this time Asbel moved a second too late, sharp claws grazing his arm as he sidestepped at the last moment. He felt warm blood dripping from the wound as he lifted his sword to block Lyra’s following slash. When their blades met, she grinned at him, licking her lips. Her eyes were wide with bloodlust.

It couldn’t go on like this forever. Their attacks must have a pattern; Asbel _had_ to figure it out and find a way to exploit it. Bryce charged again, his claws a blur— Asbel dodged him, and then parried Lyra. Still stuck on the defensive. Again and again, Bryce and Lyra attacked. Asbel felt sweat trickle down his brow, his chest heaving with effort. His foes showed no sign of exertion - well-fed vampires had more stamina than hunters.

That was bad.

Asbel gritted his teeth as they dove for him once more, dodging, parrying, his patience and energy dwindling. It had only been a day since Richard drank his blood, so he was not at the peak of his strength. His muscles were already aching. Dodge, parry, and he managed to step back far enough to glance at Richard once again.

What Asbel saw was alarming.

Two of the vampires were holding Richard’s arms, forcing him to drop his rapier. Two more reached for his legs, and no amount of kicking and trashing on Richard’s part could stop them. In a moment, Richard was completely immobilized by the four vampires, while the fifth, the bulky axe user, sneered at him.

Asbel had to avert his eyes and focus on his own fight, but he heard what came next.

“End of the line for you, Richard.” The bulky vampire’s voice was a deep rumble, cold as steel. “You should have listened to your uncle. He won’t let you run away again. He won’t let you run at all.” The man laughed, loud and terrifying. “You know, as impressive as our kind’s regeneration is, one thing we can’t do is regrow _limbs_.”

Asbel dared another glance. The vampire was raising his axe with both hands. Beneath him, his companions were forcing Richard’s right leg to remain stretched. Richard thrashed wildly, screaming, but he was powerless to escape.

_No… No, no, **NO!**_

Asbel had no time. Bryce was lunging at him. No time. Asbel feinted a sidestep to his left; Bryce grinned, eyes widening, as if he could taste victory. No time, no time, he had no time. At the last moment, Asbel moved to the right. Bryce’s claws dug deep into his left shoulder.

And Asbel buried his sword in Bryce’s stomach.

Bryce screamed, shrieked, the adamantine blade burning his flesh with a hissing sound. Next to him, Lyra froze in horror, staring wide-eyed at her dying companion. Asbel ignored the piercing sound of Bryce’s cries, using the opportunity to swing his sword to the side, cutting through Bryce’s body and into Lyra’s waist. His blade cleaved her in a single slash, killing her before she had the chance to make a sound.

Asbel did not pause. Gritting his teeth against the agonizing pain in his shoulder, he dashed towards Richard. Bryce’s scream had claimed everyone’s attention, leaving the axe wielder with his weapon frozen in midair. He was too stunned to react as Asbel’s sword sliced his head clean off his shoulders, sending his body tumbling to one side.

The four remaining vampires dropped Richard to the ground instantly, but they were too late. Asbel’s blade cut through the first two before they could even reach for their swords, moving on to slash the third right as he unsheathed his own. The last enemy standing managed to parry his blow, but Asbel whirled his blade and hacked at her legs, finishing her off before her body could fall to the ground.

It was over.

Asbel dropped down to his knees, sword clattering to his side. The pain in his shoulder was excruciating. Tears welled in his eyes as he took in mouthfuls of air, trying to will it down. He had never taken such a grave injury before. How could anything hurt _so much_? But at least Richard was safe. At least…

Where was he?

Adrenaline pumped through his body once more, making him forget the pain. He found Richard kneeling not far from him, looking at the ground, trembling.

Asbel scuttled towards him, dropping down by his side. “Richard, are you okay?”

Richard stopped shaking after hearing Asbel’s voice, but his breath still came in pants. “I’m fine,” he muttered, gaze still locked on the ground. He began trembling again.

Asbel tried to embrace him, but attempting to move his left arm increased the pain tenfold. He settled for placing his right arm around Richard’s shoulders. “It’s okay,” he murmured, “They’re all dead.”

Richard lifted his head, but as soon as his gaze fell upon one of the corpses, he dropped it again. He looked very sick.

Asbel spoke without thinking, “You shouldn’t feel bad for them. They were monsters.”

Richard winced, shoulders sagging further, and only then did Asbel realize how thoughtless he had been.

“I— I didn’t mean— You’re different from them. You’re different, Richard,” he blurted, pulling him close.

Richard didn’t reply.

Not knowing what else to do, Asbel only held him. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t do it while Richard was in this state. Everything about this encounter had defied all Asbel knew about vampires. His shoulder throbbed, like a reminder. His head felt light; he had lost a lot of blood.

_I need to treat the wound._

Finally letting go of Richard, Asbel stumbled towards his bag. He retrieved one of his best gels, removed his coat and shirt, and began spreading the medicine over the gashes in his shoulder. They were larger than he expected; if Asbel had been a regular human, he would have passed out by now. Even as a hunter, it was surprising he was still conscious.

Next came bandages. Asbel struggled to wrap them around his shoulder with a single hand; after half a dozen tries, all he accomplished was soaking them in blood. He puffed in annoyance, his head spinning from blood loss as he attempted to secure them one more time. Again, he was failing, until a pair of gloved hands took the bandages from him.

It was Richard. He knelt by Asbel’s side, and began wrapping his shoulder. Richard’s hands trembled as he worked, but he was able to bind the wound tightly. It would be enough to staunch the bleeding. When Richard was done, he looked at Asbel’s face, and forced a smile. His eyes, however, remained bleak.

“Thank you,” Asbel managed to say, knowing his own expression must have been the same.

Richard’s smile softened a little, and he whispered a barely audible _‘You’re welcome’_ in return. Then, he stood, and offered Asbel his hand, helping him up.

“There should be another village a day’s walk from here,” Asbel said, flinging his bag over his good shoulder. “We should head there.”

Richard blinked, and then quietly spoke, “Wouldn’t it be better to go back to the village we came from? It’s closer.”

“It’s closer to us, but farther from the Order. From now on, we’ll be making our way there.”

Richard’s voice dropped to a murmur. “I thought you said you had to finish patrolling this area before we returned.”

“I know,” Asbel muttered, eyes drifting towards the corpses scattered on the clearing. “But things have changed.”

* * *

The village they aimed for was supposed to be a day’s walk away, but it took them far longer to arrive. Thanks to his wound, Asbel was forced to stop and rest every couple hours, and his pace could never be too brisk. Even so, despite his permanent exhaustion, he seemed unable to sleep at night. Whenever he closed his eyes, all he could think about were vampires with hidden auras stalking them. What little sleep he got was plagued by nightmares.

Richard didn’t seem to be doing much better. He was almost as gloomy as when Asbel first met him, his gaze always locked somewhere far away. All of his actions seemed hesitant, afraid. He spoke little, and smiled less. Asbel, in his current state, did not even have the energy to try and cheer him up. His shoulder was healing far slower than he expected, and it throbbed with pain every second. All he wanted to do was to lie still until it healed, but they had to keep moving forward.

Richard treated his wound and changed his bandages twice a day, much to Asbel’s chagrin. The last thing he wanted was to burden Richard with such an unpleasant task, especially after subjecting him to such a horrible experience at the hands of those vampires. But Richard was insistent on helping.

And so, going at their slow pace, they arrived at their destination after three days.

It was early morning, but the village was already bustling with activity. It was far larger than the previous one, almost a town by this region’s standards; Asbel knew this was one of the larger settlements on this part of the kingdom. While he and Richard received a few stares, none paid much mind to them. Asbel was thankful for it.

The village had three inns, and Asbel picked the one that seemed most empty. They were greeted by a pale man with greasy brown hair, who immediately narrowed his eyes at Richard’s hood. Rather than showing his hunter’s badge, Asbel opted to pay and conceal his identity. A few extra coins made the innkeeper forget about whatever suspicions he might have had.

This time, they were given a room with two single beds. Upon seeing the mattress and pillows, Asbel had to resist the urge to plop on them and forget everything else. Keeping his self-control, he sat down on the edge of the bed and removed his boots, already treasuring the comfort of even _sitting_ on such a soft surface.

In a moment, Richard sat by his side, gel and bandages in hand. “We’re almost running out,” he murmured as he waited for Asbel to remove his shirt.

“We can restock before moving on from this village,” Asbel replied, pulling his shirt over his head, too tired to undo the buttons. “I might need to rest here for a few days, though. How much do we have?”

“Enough for now and tonight,” Richard said quietly, applying the medicine to Asbel’s wound. “And maybe for tomorrow morning, though I am unsure.”

“Oh.” Their stock had dwindled more than Asbel expected. “Well, I guess I can rest a bit for now and we’ll go buy it in the afternoon.”

Richard’s gaze fell, his hands pausing at his task. “I’m sorry. I wish I could go alone while you rested, but I do not think it would be prudent.”

Asbel sighed. He also wished Richard could go alone, but it wasn’t prudent indeed. If anyone figured out what he was…

On that subject, Asbel had another worry on his mind. “Can I have a look at your eyes?”

Richard blinked, lifting his gaze to meet Asbel’s. Pale red irises looked at him from under long yellow lashes; gazing into Richard’s eyes so closely, Asbel’s heart skipped a beat.

“They’re not very red,” Asbel blurted, struggling to keep his voice steady. His face was likely redder than Richard’s eyes. “It’s been a few days since you’ve fed, and…”

His voice faded. He didn’t want to mention _that_ event. But it was a fact that Richard had taken many wounds during that battle, and the healing process must have sapped at his strength. Given how pale his eyes were…

Asbel swallowed. “Richard, how hungry are you?”

Richard hesitated before answering. “I will wait until you are fully healed.”

Asbel’s gaze fell. Richard must have been in pain, but he couldn’t offer him his blood in his current state. “It will be three or four day at most, I promise.”

“Please take your time healing, Asbel,” Richard replied, mustering a smile. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

Asbel opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say a word, Richard cut in:

“Do you think my eyes are pale enough that I can go shopping in your stead?”

Asbel furrowed his brows; the deliberate attempt to change the subject was obvious. “Well, I don’t think people would suspect anyone of being a vampire if they were out in the morning. But the sun—”

“It’s cloudy today,” Richard cut in again, “I will need my hood, but I can see well enough. If anyone inquires, I will say I have a skin condition that prevents me from being under direct sunlight.”

Given how un-vampire-like Richard looked, people would easily believe that. However… “It’s too dangerous, Richard. What if the sky clears up while you’re outside? Then it will be too bright for you to see. You shouldn’t go alone.”

Richard’s gaze fell. For a moment, he was silent, but then he looked up at Asbel again. “Please, Asbel. Let me do this for you.”

Asbel hesitated. Richard’s eyes were locked on his own, his expression both resolute and pleading. In the end, Asbel couldn’t find it in himself to deny him. “Okay. But promise me you’ll be careful.”

Richard’s lips widened into a smile. “I will. Thank you, Asbel.”

He resumed treating Asbel’s shoulder, the smile not leaving his face. It made Asbel think the risk would be worth it.

Once Richard finished wrapping the bandages, Asbel didn’t wait a moment before dropping down on the pillow and closing his eyes. Exhausted as he was, he immediately fell into a deep, dreamless slumber, not even hearing the sound of Richard leaving.

Barely a second seemed to have passed when he woke to knocking at his door. His hunter’s senses bristled, the need for alertness fighting the bone-deep tiredness that wanted to keep his eyes locked shut. Forcing them to open was a battle, and when he won, Asbel was surprised at seeing the sun’s position from his window; given how much it had shifted, he must have slept for around two hours.

The knocking came again, accompanied by a soft voice, “Asbel?”

“Come in, Richard,” he replied, sitting up on the bed.

The door opened, and Richard stepped inside; his expression was content, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He closed the door behind him and walked towards Asbel’s bed, sitting on its edge and placing his bag on his lap.

“I bought what we needed,” he said, opening the bag and revealing a good amount of bandages and gel. “And a little something for you, as well.” He fished out a small package, handing it to Asbel.

Still half-asleep, Asbel took it from Richard’s hand. It was about the size of his fist, and surprisingly warm, giving off a familiar smell. After unwrapping it, Asbel found it was an appetizing pastry.

“It’s apple-filled,” Richard said, smiling. “I thought you might enjoy it. It’s likely not as delicious as Lhant’s apples, but hopefully it will be tasty enough.”

“You… brought it just for me?”

Richard tilted his head to one side, slightly confused. “Well, yes. There would be no point in getting one for myself, given that I cannot taste it.” His voice took on a melancholic tone. “I’m sorry. Do you not like pastries?”

“No! I love them. I’m just… surprised.” And happy. Very happy. “Thank you, Richard.”

Richard’s smile returned, even brighter than before. “You’re welcome, Asbel. It’s the least I can do after all you’ve done for me.”

Asbel didn’t feel like he deserved anything from Richard, not after the way he had failed him in that forest, but he couldn’t help but smile back and bite into the pastry. It was delicious, the crust light and buttery, the filling sweet and warm. He couldn’t remember ever eating something that tasted as good. Maybe it was because Richard had been the one who bought it for him.

“Is it good?” Richard asked expectantly.

“It’s great,” Asbel replied through a mouthful, sending a few small bits of flaky crust flying. He blushed in embarrassment, but Richard only laughed.

Asbel finished chewing and swallowed before speaking again, “How was shopping? Did everything go well?”

“Yes,” Richard replied, smiling. “I’m happy I could interact with people after so long. And everyone was so kind. The pharmacist offered me a discount, and the pastry sellers wanted to give me a second pastry for free.”

Asbel raised his eyebrows. “What, really? You should’ve taken it. This is so good, I could go for seconds.” He took another bite, grinning.

Richard chuckled. “I will buy you more tomorrow.” He paused, thinking. “In fact, there is something I would like to ask you.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not very familiar with slangs,” Richard said, touching his chin with a slender finger, “And I was… puzzled by a few things the pastry sellers said. They were a pair of siblings, a young man and a young woman, likely around our age.”

Asbel blinked. “Well?”

Richard hesitated, blushing slightly. “Is ‘dreamboat’ supposed to be a compliment?”

Asbel nearly choked on the pastry.

“Is it something improper, then?” Richard frowned. “I should’ve known. They were smirking when they said it.”

“It’s… not improper,” Asbel stuttered, blushing. “It’s a compliment, Richard.”

“Really? That’s a curious expression. Dreamboat,” he muttered under his breath, looking deep in thought. “Do you happen to know its origin?”

“N-Not really.” Asbel shifted. “…What else did they say?”

Richard hesitated. “I wasn’t sure what they meant back then, but now, I believe they were referring to certain intimate acts through pastry metaphors.”

Asbel nearly dropped his half-eaten snack. “ _What?_ ”

Richard blushed. “They asked me if I enjoyed filling pastries, or if I preferred to have my pastry filled instead.”

Asbel’s eyes widened, and before he could hold himself back, he blurted, “What did you answer?”

To that, Richard only reddened further. “I didn’t know what they were referring to, so I told them I had never baked. They giggled and said they would be happy to teach me.”

“They’re… pretty forward.” Hopefully Richard hadn’t said yes to that last proposition.

Richard flashed an embarrassed smile, and then moved the conversation to the rest of his trip. He told Asbel about the people he encountered on the streets, the vendors he walked by, even the trees and flowers he saw along his way. Every detail was mundane, but they seemed to mean the world to Richard.

“Everything was so vibrant, so full of life,” Richard said, a dreamy look on his face, “And the people seemed so content. Even though every night is fraught with danger, they spend their days cheerfully. It must be wonderful, to be so… so free.”

Richard’s words perplexed Asbel. Why did he sound so fascinated about this? There was nothing free about the way the people in the border villages had to live.

“I’m not sure about that, Richard,” Asbel muttered, frowning. “They look happy now, but their life is rough. At night, they have to bar their doors and windows, and huddle in their beds, afraid they won’t live to see the next morning.”

“I know, Asbel. But during the day, they have the freedom to go anywhere they want, to do anything they want. The fear is gone when the sun rises, and they are able to… to feel happiness. Even if just for a while.”

“That’s the bare minimum, though. Everyone has at least that bit.”

Richard’s gaze fell. “I suppose most people do.”

Asbel bit his lip. He couldn’t understand why Richard was so hung up on this, but the last thing Asbel wanted was to see him so disheartened. “I’m sorry, Richard. You were so happy, and I… I’m sorry.”

Richard looked up, mustering one of those smiles that seemed more sorrowful than anything. “It’s fine, Asbel,” he muttered, “It’s all in the past.”

* * *

Asbel did little other than sleeping for the next two days. Per his request, the innkeeper brought meals to their room, often giving them curious glances from the door, likely wondering how this pair of battered travelers had so much gald. Richard did not go out again; he slept during daytime, and spent his nights looking at the stars from their window. Even though he slept much and moved little, Richard seemed to be constantly exhausted. He was becoming more and more quiet, his eyes sunken and his gaze hazy.

Seeing Richard grow so weak from hunger pained Asbel. But he knew the very reason he was taking so long to heal was due to Richard drinking his blood the night before their battle; if Asbel allowed him to feed now, his recovery would become even slower, and they would be stuck in this village for weeks.

Above all, the one thing Asbel knew was that he needed to return to the Order as fast as he could.

He ached to ask Richard about the vampires they had met, but at the same time, he feared the effect it might have on him. Richard was always reticent about his past, especially the circumstances involved in his Turning, and the degree of shock he had experienced after the battle only made Asbel more hesitant to inquire. For now, he decided to wait.

On the afternoon of their third day at the inn, Asbel began to feel stiff from lying down most of the time, and decided that a walk through the village would be good for his recovery. Since the weather was still cloudy, he invited Richard along; the suggestion seemed to cheer him up considerably, and he accepted in a heartbeat.

They left close to sunset. Due to the hour, the streets weren’t anywhere near as lively as when they had arrived. Even so, Richard’s expression lightened as they walked, his eyes shining as he took in everything around him. For someone from the capital, Richard was very easily impressed; Asbel was sure that the streets of Barona completely overshadowed this entire village. But Richard still smiled and pointed at everything like an excited child.

They passed by the pastry stand Richard had been to before, and the sellers immediately recognized him, calling for him to come look at their tarts. Asbel couldn’t resist the sweet smell of boiled apples, so despite Richard’s embarrassed protests, he dragged him towards the stand. The sellers smirked at them, commenting on how _‘the dreamboat brought such a hunk’_ , and launched a barrage of innuendos that had them both speechless. They left the stand with their faces bright pink, but with two half-price apple tarts to make up for it.

Richard led Asbel to a small hill on the edge of the village, which he had spotted on his previous trip two days before. It wasn’t high enough to make the view too impressive, especially on such a cloudy day, but that didn’t stop Richard from raving about how beautiful it was.

“We can see so much farther from up here,” he said, staring longingly at the horizon, “It reminds me of a place I used to go to as a child.”

“Really? Lhant also has a hill with a nice view.” Far better than this one, Asbel thought to himself. “Where is it that you used to go?”

“It was to the north of Barona. But I haven’t been there in almost ten years.”

Asbel wondered how long it had been since Richard became a vampire, but he doubted it had been more than a year or so. “Why did you stop going there? Did it become dangerous?”

“You could say that,” he muttered.

They both sat on the grass, and Asbel took out one of the tarts they had bought. It was delicious, and he couldn’t help but eat the second one right after. Richard chuckled at how fast Asbel gobbled them up, and the way he hungrily licked his fingers when he was done. Asbel couldn’t help but grin in return.

Smiling, they both sat back and looked at the horizon. The sun was setting, tinting the cloudy sky with soft shades of orange and pink. Asbel had to admit that the view was better than he first thought. In fact… with Richard by his side, it was quite beautiful.

However, watching the night fall reminded him of something else. Something dreadful. And, finally, the question Asbel had been holding back tumbled out of his mouth—

“What do you know about the vampires we encountered?”

Richard flinched. The smile that had been on his lips disappeared. His gaze dropped from the horizon to the grass by his feet.

“I’m sorry to bring this up,” Asbel muttered, “I don’t want to prod on your past. But… I need to know more about them. I’ve never seen vampires able to conceal their auras. Even us hunters can’t hide ours. Please, do you know anything about how they might be doing it?”

For a moment, Richard was silent. Then, he shook his head, and murmured, “I did not even know they could do it. I’m not able to feel other vampires’ auras.”

Asbel bit his lip. Well, that made sense; hunters couldn’t detect other hunters’ auras, as well. “Do you know how many are there? Or if they have some sort of headquarters?”

Richard shook his head again. “I don’t know.”

Asbel sighed, frowning. “They were so organized. Practiced. I had never seen vampires with such good weapons. And they knew how to use them as well as most hunters.” A chill ran down his spine. “Please, Richard. Tell me whatever you know about them. How did you first come across them? Why do they want to capture you?”

Richard hesitated, shifting nervously. “I don’t think the way I met them will provide any useful information. And I can only guess as to why they want to capture me.” He paused, considering. “That man, Bryce, was a knight. So was Lyra. I don’t know anything else about them or the others.”

Knights? That explained why they were so skilled. But learning that two knights - if not more - had deserted to become vampires was shocking. “Bryce mentioned your uncle. Is he part of their group?”

Richard nodded weakly.

“Is he a knight, as well? Is he one of the leaders?”

“He isn’t a knight,” Richard muttered, and spoke no further.

Asbel felt a tightness in his chest. “I’m sorry for insisting, Richard. You don’t need to tell me anything if it makes you uncomfortable. I only want to get you to the Order safely.” He paused, wondering how to phrase the rest. “The thing is… when we arrive, the Council will want to hear everything you know. They won’t let you withhold anything. I just… I just want you to be ready to tell them your story.”

Richard’s gaze fell. “I understand.”

After that, they were silent, watching the landscape become dark as the sun finished setting.

“We should go,” Asbel said, standing. “The innkeeper will be barring his door soon.”

Richard nodded, and they made their way back without a word.

* * *

The exercise turned out to be good for Asbel’s healing, and for the next few days, he often took walks around the village. Richard could not accompany him, however, for he was growing too weak to stand being out during the day; even when it was cloudy, and even around dusk, the sun was too much for him to bear.

It was becoming harder and harder for Asbel to resist offering Richard his blood, but he forced himself to wait. Just a bit longer. He was almost fully healed.

As Asbel’s wounds closed up, Richard began changing his bandages only once a day. On their seventh night at the inn, as Richard removed the old bandages, what was beneath was smooth scar tissue.

“I don’t think I need it wrapped up anymore,” Asbel said, tentatively moving his shoulder. It felt a bit tender, but there was no chance of the wound reopening. “Thank you, Richard.”

Richard gave him a small smile. “You’re welcome, Asbel. I’m sorry for the scar.”

“Oh, this? It’s nothing. I’m a hunter, after all. Scars are part of the job.”

Richard’s eyes flickered to Asbel’s bare chest. “You don’t seem to have many of them, though.”

“It’s because I haven’t been a hunter for that long,” he sputtered, trying not to blush under Richard’s gaze. “But really, it’s fine. I don’t care about scars.”

Richard flashed another small smile, and stood to dispose of the bandages in a container by the door. Asbel shifted, glancing at his shirt. For a moment, he considered.

And then, he made a decision.

“You can drink my blood now.”

Richard froze. The bandages fell from his hands, tumbling to the floor. He turned to Asbel, lips half-parted, canines growing longer. For a moment, he was silent, gaze locked on Asbel’s bare neck. “Are you… are you sure it’s not too early? Your wounds…”

“It’s fine. I’m well enough. You’ll just have to bite into my right side this time,” Asbel said, smiling awkwardly. His heart was beating too fast.

Richard licked his lips, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. After a moment, he walked towards Asbel and sat on the bed by his side. He glanced into Asbel’s eyes, then at his own knees, then into Asbel’s eyes again. “Are you really sure?”

Asbel hesitated. Was he, after all? Maybe it would be better if he gave it one more day. His shoulder wasn’t completely healed yet. But…

He couldn’t wait any longer.

“I’m sure, Richard. Go ahead.”

Richard’s gaze went from Asbel’s eyes to his neck. He leaned in slowly, too slowly, so slowly that Asbel wanted to yell for him to just go ahead and do it. Asbel’s stomach was tied into a knot, his heart thundering in his chest. He wished he could say he was afraid. But he knew it was something else.

Richard’s lips finally touched his skin, soft, so soft. Somehow, they seemed even softer than last time. They quivered against his neck— was Richard hesitating? Now? Asbel’s breath caught in his throat. _Go on, Richard. Please._

A moment later, Richard’s lips parted, brushing over Asbel’s skin. Asbel exhaled, making a sound dangerously close to a moan. He felt Richard’s teeth pressing down on his neck, slowly, too slowly— until, _finally_ , they pierced his skin.

Asbel barely had time to register the hint of pain before an overpowering wave of pleasure crashed upon him. His surroundings faded, the room, the bed, everything, everything but the two of them. Richard’s arms slid around his waist, pulling him close, pressing their bodies together as his fangs buried deep into Asbel’s neck.

Asbel gasped, heart racing, faster and faster, until its deafening sound drowned all else. He felt light, heavy, warm, cold, all at once, and Richard… he was ice, a blizzard, freezing, and then suddenly— a furnace, the sun, searing heat biting into his neck. And Asbel was at the mercy of this storm, powerless as Richard claimed his blood for himself.

He should have been terrified, but fear was the last thing he felt, because this was _Richard_. Strange, how easy it was for Asbel to yield himself to someone he had known for so brief a time, but he trusted Richard, trusted him completely. He surrendered without hesitation, to Richard, and to the ecstasy he offered. His mind went blank, all his senses overloading.

And finally, his consciousness drifted away.

When Asbel came to himself, he struggled to recall where he was. Everything around him seemed fuzzy. He was lying on something soft and comfortable— a bed, he assumed. He was cold, very cold, but something warm was against his chest.

It all came back to Asbel. They must have fallen against the mattress while Richard drank his blood. He had no idea how long they had spent lying there - seconds? Minutes? Hours? It was still night outside, so it couldn’t have been too long.

Richard was draped over Asbel’s chest, head resting against his shoulder. Asbel could feel Richard’s breath on his neck, warm, so warm. Given how cold Asbel felt, he was glad to have Richard so close. Unconsciously, he wrapped his arms around Richard’s waist, embracing him. To Asbel’s surprise, Richard shifted slightly, but instead of pulling away he only made himself more comfortable in Asbel’s arms. A long, pleased sigh left Richard’s lips, warm on Asbel’s skin.

It was so, so strange. Hunger gnawed on Asbel’s stomach, his throat was parched from thirst, and without a shirt he was almost shivering with cold— but even so, he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so content.

Richard shifted again, but this time it was to pull away from Asbel’s arms. For a moment, Asbel had the urge to tighten his embrace around him, keeping him against his chest, but he forced himself to let go. Richard sat on the edge of the bed, head tilted forward, face covered by his long hair.

“Richard?” Asbel asked, reaching for his shirt. With Richard’s warmth gone, he was _cold_. “Are you okay?”

Richard nodded, standing. He swayed for a moment, almost losing his balance. Then, he turned towards Asbel, smiling shyly. His cheeks were very red. “Are you hungry, Asbel? Would you like me to ask the innkeeper to send a meal?”

“I’m pretty hungry, but I don’t think the innkeeper will serve a meal at this time.” He would make an exception if he knew Asbel was a hunter, but he was trying not to reveal himself.

“Oh. Of course,” Richard muttered, cheeks growing redder. “I will fetch you something from our stock, then.”

“And water, please.”

Once Asbel’s stomach was full and his thirst sated, he felt a bit better, though not as good as when Richard had been in his arms. If only they could share a bed again. Sleeping by Richard’s side would be even more pleasant now that Richard was so warm. Asbel could hold him close, feel Richard’s breath on his neck, his cheek, his lips—

Asbel interrupted that chain of thought before it could go too far. It was silly of him to think of Richard as anything beyond a companion in his travels. Yes, it was true that the act of drinking blood seemed very intimate, but it was simply a way for Richard to survive. That, and nothing more.

Asbel kept that in mind as they took to their separate beds. They were only acquaintances working together, who, one day, would have to part ways. He repeated that inside his head, over and over, as he rested against his pillow and closed his eyes.

Even though he knew, deep down, that it was very far from the truth.


	4. Grim News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic will be borrowing towns and town names from Fendel and Strahta, but please be aware that the world geography in this AU is different than in Graces’ canon. Everything in this story is set in Windor, which is a far bigger kingdom than it was in-game.

Two days later, they packed their bags and descended the stairs into the inn’s common room.

“You’re leaving _now_?” The greasy innkeeper asked, small eyes widening. “It’s almost nightfall.”

“We’re just switching inns,” Asbel blurted without thinking. “S-Sorry.”

The innkeeper’s face contorted into a deep frown, and he spoke no more, watching with narrowed eyes as his ungrateful guests left. Asbel felt guilty about the blow to the innkeeper’s pride, but at least it meant he wouldn’t gossip about their departure to anyone.

The idea to leave at dusk was a sensible one; traveling at night and sleeping by day meant they had a much smaller chance of being ambushed, especially since Asbel decided he would no longer chase any vampiric aura he happened to detect. It also meant they could cover more ground, without the sun sapping at Richard’s strength. Whenever Asbel thought about how far they were from the Order, and how long their journey would take, he felt his stomach twist with anxiety. They had to do everything within their power to arrive as fast as they could.

Now that they were back on the road, Asbel found himself constantly thinking about the vampires they had met that night in the woods. The event was burned in his mind; he remembered the rush of panic when the vampiric aura disappeared, the sheer terror he felt when he found himself facing seven of the monsters. His fears simmered in his head, and one morning at dawn, when they had stopped to rest after a night’s walk, Asbel ended up blurting them out to Richard.

They were camping in a forest, sitting next to a fire Asbel had kindled. Their surroundings had reminded Asbel of _that_ night, and before he knew it he was speaking about how afraid he was of the vampires who could hide their auras, how he feared the Order would fail to find a way to counter whatever methods they were using, how the hunters would become useless and humans would lose all means to defend themselves.

When Asbel finished speaking, his eyes stung. He wiped them quickly, muttering something about smoke from the campfire, but as soon as his hand dropped down to his lap, Richard caught it in his own. Gentle, slender fingers wrapped around Asbel’s callused palm, warm, warmer than the fire. Asbel knew that couldn’t be possible, that Richard’s skin was supposed to be cold, yet he felt nothing but warmth from those gloved fingers.

They sat in silence watching the flames dance before their eyes, fingers intertwined. They didn’t speak a word, but Asbel felt a strong sense of mutual understanding he had never experienced before.

Richard was his friend. It didn’t matter that Asbel had only known him for a short time. It didn’t matter that he barely knew anything about Richard’s past.

That night, they slept side by side.

Asbel dreamed of a world in which vampires did not exist, in which he was a knight instead of a hunter. Richard was his childhood friend, his closest friend, who smiled and held his hand and told him jokes as they walked through the streets of Barona. The end of the dream was muddled, but he thought Richard had been in his arms, warm and soft and everything Asbel had ever wanted.

He was jerked awake by Richard himself.

“What? What’s going on?” Asbel mumbled, dazed. His dream was still vivid in his mind.

“I can feel a hunter approaching,” Richard blurted, fingers tightening on Asbel’s arm.

Asbel sat up at once, heart almost leaping out of his chest. “What? Where?”

“I’m sorry, I… I cannot tell where the presence is coming from.”

Of course. Vampires couldn’t detect a hunter’s location precisely. Asbel shook his head, willing the sleepiness away. He had to think, even though all he wished was to return to his dream. Finally, he asked, “Can you guess how far they are?”

Richard bit his lip. “I’m not sure. But they seem to be getting closer.” He looked into Asbel’s eyes, begging for a solution.

Asbel felt panic rise to his chest. If the hunter was close enough for Richard to detect them, it meant they must have detected Richard, and were coming straight for him. Maybe they could try to run… But no, outrunning a hunter would be impossible during the day, when Richard’s stamina was weakened. There was only one action they could take.

Asbel stood, fastening his sword to his belt. “We’ll wait for the hunter.”

Richard’s eyes widened. “You want to _fight_ them?”

“What? No!” Fighting one of his companions was unthinkable. Asbel only killed vampires. “I’ll explain the situation to them. I’m sure they will understand.” Or so he hoped.

Richard hesitated, glancing around before he stood beside Asbel. “And if they don’t?”

Asbel hadn’t considered that. “I’m sure they will.”

It didn’t convince Richard. “They might not stop to listen to you, Asbel. What if they don’t recognize you, and rush straight into battle?”

“They will recognize me. All the hunters who patrol this region know me.”

“Even if they do… they might still try to fight.” Richard eyes locked into his own, pleading for some sort of reassurance.

What could Asbel say? That he would fight his own companions, if necessary? Kill them to save Richard? It was an outrageous idea. If the Order ever found out, Asbel wouldn’t be forgiven. He’d be stripped of his title and position at best, and executed at worst. Not to mention the guilt of murdering an innocent.

But if it was necessary… for Richard…

He tried not to think of it. “Even if they head straight to battle, I can defend us and get them to listen. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

Richard’s expression relaxed a little, and he gave a small nod.

Now, there was nothing to do but to wait. Asbel kept his hand resting on his sword hilt, but made sure his posture was relaxed, unthreatening. Richard took a similar stance, but looked far more tense than Asbel. Well, it would have to do.

The minutes dragged on, Asbel’s heart pounding in his chest. He tried to think of which hunter it might be, hoping it would be someone calm and reasonable. Convincing them to let Richard go might not be easy, depending on who it was.

Asbel bit his lip. He heard the sound of leaves crunching in the distance, and his very breathing halted, his entire body tensing. His eyes widened in expectation.

A second later, the one they had been waiting for sprung from beyond the trees. His weapon was unsheathed, a double-edged spear, poised to attack— but the moment he laid eyes upon Asbel, he froze.

_“Brother?”_

Asbel found himself staring into blue eyes not unlike his own. Of everyone… of every single hunter he could’ve encountered…

“Hubert.”

The two hunters stood, frozen, gawking at each other in disbelief. Hubert’s grip on his dualblade grew so slack it dropped from his fingers. He gasped, catching it almost a second too late, fumbling for a moment before he pointed it straight towards Asbel. His face was bright red when he finally blurted, “What in the world are you doing _here_? And that’s a vampire standing next to you, for the Order’s sake! Kill it!”

_Of every single hunter in the world…_

Asbel sighed, suppressing the urge to throw his head back in annoyance. In any other situation, he would have been more than happy to encounter his little brother after months spent apart. But right then… he stared at Hubert, who was still shaking his weapon right at Asbel’s nose.

Talking this down would be an ordeal.

“He’s not dangerous,” Asbel finally said, trying his best to keep his voice calm. “I’m taking him to the Order, Hubert.”

“Not… dangerous…?” Hubert spoke the words slowly through his gritted teeth. His face was such a deep crimson Asbel was afraid he would explode. “You’re speaking as if you’ve picked up a stray cat and you’re taking it home to show Mother. But that’s a damned _vampire_! It _eats_ people!” Hubert’s fingers clenched on his weapon. “Kill it, or I will!”

“No!” Asbel moved to stand in front of Richard, drawing his sword. “Listen to me, Hubert. He hasn’t drunk human blood in months. He’s fought by my side, and if he hadn’t been there, I would have died. I’m not gonna let you, or anyone, hurt him!”

Hubert’s dualblade was trembling with the tension from his arm, his gaze piercing, brutally cold. Asbel feared Hubert would ignore his words and attack. However, to his surprise, Hubert lowered his weapon. “Explain,” he demanded, eyes narrow and hard.

Asbel released the breath he had been holding, and finally, sheathed his sword. Glancing over his shoulder, he found Richard doing the same with his rapier - Asbel had been so nervous he hadn’t even noticed Richard had drawn it. When Richard’s tense gaze met his own, Asbel tried his best to give him a reassuring smile. Richard returned it, and relaxed a little.

Asbel turned back to Hubert. “I met him in my usual patrol,” he began. “His name is R—”

“Ris,” Richard cut in.

Asbel glanced at Richard again, confused. Richard looked calm and composed, but Asbel recognized a hint of anxiety in his eyes. So he wanted to hide his real name? Asbel couldn’t fathom why, but for now, he had to roll with it. Hubert didn’t seem to notice anything strange.

“He’s Ris. He was living in an abandoned building, almost completely starved, so I offered him my blood—”

He was cut short again, this time by Hubert’s indignant gasp. “You offered your blood? To a _vampire_? You must be completely insane!”

“I’m alive,” Asbel retorted, frowning. “Rich… Ris could’ve killed me, but he didn’t.”

“How long ago was that?”

“A little over two weeks.”

“I see,” Hubert said, crossing his arms. “Has he drunk your blood again since then?”

Asbel’s mind flashed back to that night at the inn, and he felt his face grow warm. “Once, yeah.”

Hubert’s expression hardened. “Has it occurred to you, Brother, that he might be playing you like a fiddle? You know how those creatures love hunters’ blood!”

Hubert spoke as if Richard wasn’t even there; it bothered Asbel. “You need to stop assuming the worst of people, Hubert.”

“And you need to stop being so gullible, Brother,” Hubert retorted, narrowing his eyes. “You’re the current Wielder of Excalibur. You have a _responsibility_.” His fingers tightened around his dualblade, and Asbel feared he would lunge in to attack. But Hubert held his ground.

Asbel took a deep breath. “Hubert, listen. We met a group of vampires, seven of them.” He paused, licking his lips. He didn’t want this information to spread before he spoke to the Council, but he could trust his own brother. “Some of them, maybe all, were former Knights of Windor. They could fight as well as you’d expect of a knight, and were armed as well as one, too.”

Hubert’s eyes widened. For once, he listened in silence.

“If all they wanted to do was to kill me, they would have done it easily. But they wanted to capture Ris. If he hadn’t been there, I’d be dead.” Asbel paused, taking a deep breath. “From the way they’ve spoken, they’ve killed other hunters. They have a way to hide their vampiric auras, but they keep one of them unconcealed, as a way to bait us into going after them.”

Hubert went pale. “They can hide their auras?”

“Yes. Neither of us know how, but we’re heading to the Order so we can tell the Council everything we know about those vampires. Ris has been taken by them before, so with the information he has, the Council might be able to deduce how they’re doing it. We’ve killed the ones we met, but Ris says there are more.”

“More,” Hubert muttered under his breath, eyes wide. “Do you realize what this means? There could be vampires slipping right under our noses, preying on the inner cities. There could be vampires in the _capital!_ ”

“I know,” Asbel muttered, gaze falling. “That’s why I’m taking Rich— _Ris_ to the Order, as fast as I can. He’s going to help us, Hubert. He’s different from other vampires.”

For a moment, Hubert was silent. Finally, he split his dualblade in two, and sheathed each part in the scabbards hanging from his belt. “I see. So this explains why you’re here rather than patrolling the area you were supposed to.”

Asbel raised an eyebrow. “You thought I was on a vacation or something?”

A smile tugged at the corner of Hubert’s mouth, but it was gone in a moment, washed away by his usual cold seriousness. “Do you plan on going by land? Or taking a ship along the Foselos river?”

“I’m not sure.” Taking a ship would be faster, but boarding with Richard could prove difficult. “I guess I’ll decide when we get to Velanik Port.”

“You’ll have to use your badge,” Hubert said. “The ports are packed. Many people are heading to the capital. Times have been grim, with more vampire attacks than ever, and… I don’t believe news have reached you yet?”

Asbel’s ears perked up. “What news?”

“King Ferdinand is dead.”

There was a loud, surprised gasp. Not from Asbel— rather, from Richard. Both hunters turned towards him, finding him with wide eyes and open month. Even under their scrutiny, Richard took a moment to compose himself, setting his jaw firmly and letting his gaze fall to the ground.

For the first time in their encounter, Hubert addressed Richard. “I don’t see a reason to be so shocked. His Majesty had been ill for quite a while. His death was expected.”

“I wasn’t aware he had been ill,” Richard murmured, hands trembling slightly. “For how long?”

“Ever since the Crown Prince’s disappearance,” Hubert said. “People say he went sick with stress for his son.”

Richard swallowed. When he next spoke, his voice wavered. “The throne… who is…?”

“Archduke Cedric, of course. He was named regent a couple months ago, when King Ferdinand became bedridden and could no longer perform his kingly duties. Archduke Cedric was already ruler in all but name, and now, the crown is his.”

Richard’s face went very pale. He looked like he would be sick.

Asbel scuttled next to Richard, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Richard didn’t answer. Instead, he addressed Hubert once more, voice trembling, “King Ferdinand’s death was so sudden. Does no one suspect the Archduke? Does no one oppose his ascension to the throne?”

Hubert raised an eyebrow, surveying Richard from head to toe, as if weighting him anew. “The King’s health has always been fragile. His passing shouldn’t be surprising. But yes, there are some who oppose Archduke Cedric taking the throne. They are led by Duke Dalen, and they claim that the Archduke should have remained regent until they find definite proof that the Crown Prince, who is the rightful heir, isn’t alive. But they are a minority. Most people agree that the Prince must be dead.”

Richard’s eyes grew bleak. He spoke no further.

Once Hubert realized the conversation had ended, he turned to Asbel. “Brother, I want to talk with you.”

“Okay.”

“ _Alone._ ”

Asbel considered stating that whatever Hubert had to say, Richard could also listen, but he knew that his stubborn younger brother wouldn’t budge. “Fine. Ris, can you wait here for a moment?”

Richard nodded, and Asbel walked off with Hubert.

They stopped a few paces away from Asbel’s camp, well off Richard’s earshot. Hubert glanced around for good measure, then said, “What else do you know about that vampire?”

“I’ve told you all I know.” Well, most of it. “Still suspicious?”

“He’s a vampire. How can I not be?” Hubert puffed in annoyance, crossing his arms. “Take care, Brother. He might turn on you when you least expect.”

“He’s not going to turn on me.” Asbel knew arguing with Hubert would be pointless, but he couldn’t stand listening to him talking about Richard like that.

“You’re too stubborn,” Hubert grumbled under his breath.

Asbel tried not to chuckle; it probably ran in the family. “If that’s all you wanted to say, I’m going back to him now.”

Before Asbel could walk away, Hubert grabbed his arm. “Asbel. Be careful. You have—”

“…A responsibility. I know, Hubert. Do you think I could forget I’m carrying Father’s sword?”

“Not only Father’s. It belonged to dozens of generations of Wielders. It’s the Order’s most valuable heirloom, and—”

“Being chosen to wield it is the greatest honor and the heaviest duty. I _know_.”

Hubert scoffed. “Well, then. Don’t forget it.” He paused, looking at the sky. Then, he spoke, “I’ll go back to the Order. There’s no point in doing my patrol if there are vampire ambushing lone hunters. I would likely end up as another corpse.”

Asbel swallowed. “You mentioned that there have been more vampire attacks on towns. It might be…”

“Because hunters have been dying faster than ever, leaving more vampires roaming free. The Council has been discussing it. Many hunters have been lost over the last couple months, far more than what’s usually expected. No one knew why… until now. You’re the first who lived to tell the story.”

“I see,” Asbel muttered, gaze falling. “I wonder what the Order will do. We could send bigger groups on patrol, but that would mean covering a far smaller area…”

“Don’t bother worrying about it. This is for the Council to decide. We’ll simply carry out whatever plan they choose.”

“I know. It’s just... hard not to think about it.”

Silence fell upon them. The air was heavy with the grimness of the situation.

Hubert exhaled. “I’ll head back to the Order ahead of you. I can arrive faster, traveling both during the day and at night, and without having to pause to rest from blood loss.” Hubert spoke that last bit with a very sharp tone. “Remember, Brother. Be watchful.”

Asbel knew Hubert was referring to his suspicion of Richard, but he pretended it was something else. “You too, Hubert. Take care.”

With their goodbyes out of the way, Hubert turned and left without another word. Asbel watched as he disappeared among the trees, feeling a strange hollowness in his chest. As children, he and Hubert had been inseparable, but after they were sent to the Order to undergo hunter training… Asbel shook his head, sighing. There was no point in dwelling on this.

He turned around and walked back to where Richard would be waiting for him.

Asbel found Richard sitting by a tree, shoulders sagged and head down. Asbel walked towards him, and only when he was standing right by his side did Richard raise his head.

“Hey,” Asbel said, kneeling next to Richard. “You okay?”

Richard nodded weakly. “Forgive me for worrying you.”

Asbel hesitated. “Are you sure? You don’t seem too well, Richard.”

Richard did not look into Asbel’s eyes. “Please don’t worry about me. I’m only tired. It’s a sunny afternoon, and we’ve only had a couple hours of sleep…” he trailed off, looking into the distance.

Asbel sat by Richard’s side, and for a moment, both were silent. Finally, Asbel mustered the courage to ask the question that had been nagging at the back of his mind. “Why did you lie about your name to Hubert?”

Richard’s gaze fell. He opened his mouth, and then closed it again. After a moment, he muttered, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Richard. You can’t tell me why?”

Richard muttered another barely audible _‘I’m sorry’_ under his breath.

Asbel bit his lip. He felt a tightness in his chest. “Is ‘Richard’ your real name?”

Richard’s eyes shot up, and finally, he met Asbel’s gaze. “It is. I… I wouldn’t lie to you, Asbel.”

Asbel could tell Richard meant it. It was a comfort; the idea of Richard lying to him about his own name, of all things, pained Asbel. Part of him wanted to insist and ask Richard why he was so crestfallen - it was obvious it wasn’t just tiredness - but he didn’t want to force Richard to talk about his past against his will. Asbel pushed his questions out of his mind.

“Let’s go back to sleep until dusk, then.”

* * *

When Asbel awoke, Richard was already up, staring wistfully at the darkening sky. Asbel shuffled to a sitting position, reaching out to gently touch Richard’s shoulder. Richard hadn’t noticed him, so he flinched in surprise, but once he saw it was Asbel, a small smile formed on his lips.

“Have you been up for long?” Asbel asked.

“Only for a bit,” Richard replied.

They gathered their belongings, and in a few minutes, were back on the road.

It took them five uneventful days to reach Velanik, the smallest of Windor’s port towns, and the only one without a permanent hunter outpost. It was located by the Foselos, a huge river that crossed the kingdom, and a major mean of transportation for those who wanted to travel between the peripheral towns and the inner cities.

Velanik was tiny when compared to the inner cities, but large among peripheral towns. On their way to the docks, Asbel and Richard passed by a number of shops, inns, and even a market being set up in the main square. The early morning was overcast, so Richard wasn’t wearing his hood. He regarded the common folk with curiosity, though he was far less excited than Asbel would’ve expected. In fact, for the past few days, Richard’s mood had been rather subdued.

Once the pier came in sight, Asbel placed his hand on Richard’s shoulder, and said, “Can you wear your hood? Sailors are more watchful than most people, so they might notice your eyes.” Almost two weeks had passed since Richard last drank Asbel’s blood, so his eyes were back to a pale red, but it was better to be careful.

Richard nodded, and did as Asbel asked, pulling his hood low enough to cover his eyes. Asbel smiled, took his hunter’s badge out of his shirt, and left it in plain sight. “Let’s see if we can get a ship.”

There were a few boats docked on the harbor, but most were tiny fishing vessels and merchant ships that traded with the inner cities. While they might be willing to take a hunter downriver, their cabins would be cramped and uncomfortable, and their sailing speed subpar. But if they had no other options…

“Master Asbel Lhant?”

Asbel started, shocked at hearing his name, and turned to find a short, sturdy man looking up at him. “Who are you?”

“I’m a sailor from the ship Pelune. I was told to bring you to our captain.”

Asbel considered asking the sailor how they knew him, but the captain would likely be the one who knew the answer. “Okay. Take us to them.”

The sailor led Asbel and Richard towards one of the few docked ships, a large vessel stationed at the far end of the port. On the pier, a woman and a man were talking, the woman gesticulating energetically towards the ship as she spoke. When she saw the sailor approach with Asbel and Richard, she immediately turned towards them and saluted.

“There’s our long-awaited hunter! I am Patricia, captain of the Pelune. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Asbel Lhant.” Patricia was tall, athletic, and dark-skinned, her black hair tied back in a thick braid. She was dressed humbly, but her posture implied a reassuring confidence. “You must be wondering how we know about you. Two days ago, another hunter passed by our port and told us you would come here looking for passage.”

So Hubert had been there. “It’s my pleasure, Captain Patricia,” Asbel said, bowing his head. “Is that other hunter still here in Velanik?”

“He departed in another ship right after giving us the message,” she replied. “Are you still interested in traveling downriver? It would be our honor to take you on the Pelune. We have prepared a private cabin for your comfort.”

Asbel raised his eyebrows in surprise; that went a lot easier than he expected. He really owed Hubert one. “Thank you. That’s just what we need. When will you be setting off?”

“We could do so in three hours, but with this cloudy weather… You see, master hunter, we usually wait until the sun is high and bright to carry out the boarding, to make sure all of our passengers are, well, _human_. Wouldn’t want a vampire to slip by and then have a feast at our expense.” She shook her head somberly. “But of course, with a hunter aboard, I don’t think we need to worry about that. If it’s not much to ask, I’d appreciate it if you could stand by the gangplank while our passengers boarded, just to reassure them.”

“Of course,” Asbel replied. As long as he could get Richard into the ship without any suspicions, he’d do anything.

“And… if your companion could remove his hood, that would be for the best, as well.”

Asbel froze. By his side, he felt Richard grow tense. “I’m… I’m afraid he won’t be able to do that.”

“May I ask why not?”

“Order’s business,” Asbel muttered, feeling cold sweat on his brow. “His face and identity must remain hidden.”

Patricia narrowed her eyes at Richard, but a moment later, her expression relaxed. “I see. I’ll ask you to leave him in your cabin while the other passengers board, then. That hood would only unsettle everyone.” She paused. “In fact, if he absolutely must keep the hood, it would be better if he stayed in your cabin through the entire trip.”

That was a lot to ask, but maybe Asbel could slip Richard out for walks through the ship at night. “I understand.”

They left the harbor with the agreement to come back in two hours, so they would have ample time to have Richard settled in their cabin before the rest of the passengers arrived for boarding. Asbel was glad they were able to obtain passage in such a good ship; the Pelune was not only fast but also spacious. Richard would have a comfortable trip.

“We should head to an inn and wait in the common room,” Asbel told Richard as they walked away from the docks. “Maybe we can… I mean, I can get something to eat.”

Richard nodded in response. He had been quiet for the last few days, likely from hunger; Asbel would have offered him his blood, but he wanted to wait until they were aboard the ship. Richard had been understanding when Asbel explained it to him, but then again, Richard was very hesitant when it came to drinking his blood.

To Asbel’s distress, the common room at the inn closest to the docks was rather full; dozens of heads turned towards him and his gleaming hunter’s badge as soon as he stepped inside. Richard’s hooded figure also drew stares and hushed remarks. Realizing they would have no peace in this place, Asbel took Richard’s arm and turned around, intent on leaving to look for another inn.

“Master hunter, wait!”

Asbel glanced over his shoulder, and found a red-faced innkeeper rushing towards them.

“We have very good rooms, master hunter,” the innkeeper blurted, bowing so low Asbel thought he would fall over. “Ready for your occupancy, and free of charge, of course!”

“Thank you, but we only need a place to stay for a couple hours while we wait for our ship.” Asbel spoke quietly, knowing everyone in the common room was trying to listen to their conversation.

“Why, you will wait much more comfortably in the privacy of one of our rooms! And we can have a meal sent up, if you so desire.” The innkeeper gave him a supplicating smile.

Now that was a tempting offer. “Thank you. We’ll accept it.”

Beaming, the innkeeper led them to a cozy room with two large beds, and left after announcing that their food would be ready in a few minutes. Satisfied, Asbel dropped his backpack on one of the beds and flopped on it. He smiled as Richard gracefully sat on the other one.

“It’s always so good to lie on a soft bed after so long on the road,” Asbel said, lying on his side to face Richard. “Don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Richard muttered in reply, lips curving into a small smile that did not reach his eyes.

Asbel went silent. Richard had never been particularly talkative, but lately he was far quieter than usual. “Are you okay, Richard? You haven’t been talking much.”

His words seemed to take Richard by surprise, his red eyes widening slightly. “I’m sorry for worrying you. I’m doing fine.”

“You must be hungry,” Asbel muttered, twiddling his thumbs. “Tonight, at the ship…”

“Asbel, it’s okay,” Richard said, expression softening. “Please don’t worry about me.”

_He always says that_ , Asbel thought. Well, there was no point in arguing. He would get Richard to drink his blood later that day, anyway.

The innkeeper arrived with a meal shortly afterwards, and as usual, Asbel ate both his and Richard’s portions. When he was done, he left the dishes by the door and sat back on his bed. There was still over an hour before they were supposed to return to the docks, so maybe he could take a nap.

He turned towards Richard to speak, but Asbel’s words died in his mouth when he saw Richard’s state. Richard was huddled in his cloak, back hunched, forlorn red eyes staring at the wall as if in a trance. He seemed to have forgotten Asbel was in the room.

Not thinking twice, Asbel jumped from his bed, walked over toward Richard’s, and sat by his side. Richard had been so absorbed in his wall-staring that he gave a small jump when the mattress shifted with Asbel’s weight.

“Asbel?”

Asbel moved closer to him. “Are you okay, Richard?” He knew he had asked this question many times before, but Asbel couldn’t stop himself from doing it again. “You’re cold, aren’t you?”

“I’m fine, Asbel. Please don’t worry about me.” Richard smiled, but it was clearly forced.

“You’re not fine,” Asbel blurted, reaching out and placing a hand on Richard’s cheek. His skin was gelid. “You’re almost as cold as when we first met,” Asbel muttered without thinking. The memory of Richard’s icy lips was still fresh on his mind.

Richard glanced away, but he did not pull back from Asbel’s hand. Unconsciously, Asbel gently pressed his palm to Richard’s cheek, and for a moment, it felt as if Richard was leaning against it, relishing its warmth. Asbel’s breath hitched in his chest.

He had to do _something_.

“The weather has been getting colder,” he said, mind racing, “And we spent the last few days on the road, so you must’ve lost a lot of body warmth. If you’d like, I can… I can…” Asbel swallowed. It felt as if his heart was going to jump out of his chest. Finally, his words tumbled out of his mouth, “I can lie with you to help you warm up.”

Richard’s eyes went wide, so wide Asbel cursed himself for his reckless words. He was about to withdraw his hand from Richard’s cheek when, to his surprise, Richard nodded. Was his face a little pink, or was Asbel imagining it? He knew his own must’ve been crimson.

For a while they only sat there, staring at the mattress, too nervous and embarrassed to move. Finally, Asbel muttered, “We should probably get under the covers.” A part of him knew that removing their shirts would also help, but he couldn’t bring himself to mention it.

They shuffled awkwardly to pull the sheets over them, bumping knees and elbows and muttering whispers of _‘sorry’_ every few seconds. Once they were both lying down, they realized they were a good foot apart from each other. That wouldn’t do much for warming Richard.

“Do you… want to come closer?” Asbel muttered, his heart so jittery he almost regretted suggesting this whole thing. He wondered if that was how newlyweds felt on their first night together, and the idea only furthered his embarrassment.

After a pause that seemed to last an eternity, Richard shifted closer to him, until there was only an inch of distance between their bodies. Asbel couldn’t bring himself to look into Richard’s eyes, but he felt his breath on his cheek, unnaturally cool. It didn’t bother him. In fact, given how warm Asbel’s nervousness was making him, it felt nice.

Closing his eyes, Asbel steeled himself and, in a single motion, slipped an arm around Richard and pulled him close.

He heard Richard gasp, felt his cold breath on his neck, the rise and fall of his chest against his own. Asbel wondered if he was being too impulsive, but if he wanted to warm Richard, wasn’t that the only way? He began to second-guess his decision, his heart thundering in his chest, but before he could pull back Richard slipped an arm around Asbel’s waist.

Asbel couldn’t hold back a sigh of relief. Richard shifted, making himself more comfortable in his arms, the situation strangely reminiscent of when he had last drunk Asbel’s blood. Except this time, Asbel was the one warming Richard.

“Is… is it working?” Asbel muttered, cheeks flushing.

Richard nodded against his chest. “Thank you,” he whispered. Despite his chilly breath, his voice sounded warm.

“We can stay like this for a while,” Asbel said, tightening his arms around Richard. “I-If you want to, I mean.”

Richard nodded again, making a pleased _‘Mmm’_ sound that vibrated on Asbel’s skin. Asbel was reminded of his dream, and for the moment, he forgot about the kind of world they lived in.

For now, it was only the two of them.


	5. Setting Sail

“Please form a line by the gangplank!” Captain Patricia’s voice boomed through the docks. “Board one at a time so the hunter can inspect each of you!”

Asbel shifted awkwardly as every single passenger awaiting to board the Pelune stared at him. He had told Patricia that he could detect vampires in a crowd, but she still insisted on making a show of the boarding process. All so that her passengers would feel safe in her ship.

Asbel already knew none of the passengers were vampires, so his mind drifted as they made their way up the gangplank. Richard was already in their cabin, huddled in blankets on one of the beds, waiting for Asbel. The cabin Patricia offered them had a small bookshelf on one of the walls, so Richard could at least entertain himself by reading, but Asbel still wished wish the boarding would be over soon.

Every passenger took their time eyeing the medallion hanging from Asbel’s neck. It was unlikely any of them had ever seen a hunter’s badge up close. While the Order’s crest was well-known through all of the kingdom - a simple depiction of a shining sword pointing towards the sky, casting rays of light to banish the swirls of darkness surrounding it - many people, especially in the peripheries, never had the chance to meet a hunter.

Patricia stood next to Asbel, arms crossed over her chest and lips curved into a smile. She personally greeted each and every of the passengers in her usual stern but friendly manner. Asbel wondered if she could wield the sword hanging from her belt, and with a glance at her toned arms, decided that the answer must be yes.

Once the boarding was over, Asbel was dismissed by Patricia. It was strange to be ordered around by someone who wasn’t a member of the Order’s Council, but in a ship, everyone deferred to the captain. Smiling to himself, Asbel made his way back to his cabin.

He found Richard sitting on one of the beds, a blanket around his shoulders and a book in his hands. His eyes were taking in the words hungrily, but as soon as Asbel walked in, Richard closed the book and placed it next to him on the mattress, cover facing down. He gave Asbel a smile. “How was the boarding?”

“It was okay. No vampires on this ship. I mean, other than you.” Asbel scratched the back of his head, smiling awkwardly. “What were you reading?”

“Nothing important,” Richard replied, a bit too quickly. His gaze flickered to the book before returning to Asbel’s face.

“Really? You seemed to be pretty into it. What was it about?”

“Just a collection of short stories.” Grabbing the book, Richard stood and walked over to the bookshelf, still hiding the cover from Asbel.

“Oh, come on. Now I’m curious. Were you reading something inappropriate?” Grinning, Asbel reached for the book, expecting Richard to play along and pull it away. But to his surprise, Richard did not react.

Dumbstruck, Asbel looked down at the book now in his hands, and flipped it to look at the cover. _Heroic Tales of Adventure_ , the title read. Asbel skimmed through some of the pages, finding many detailed illustrations of armored knights facing fire-breathing dragons, ancient wizards casting swirls of magic, and pirates braving tempestuous seas. “You were reading this?”

Richard shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Yes.”

“I didn’t know you were into adventure books.” Really, Asbel had expected Richard to be reading something on history, politics, or even sciences.

“I… I suppose it is inappropriate reading for someone like myself,” Richard muttered, looking away.

“What? No!” Asbel closed the book so quickly it made a smacking sound. “There’s nothing wrong about reading adventure books. When I asked if you were reading something inappropriate, I meant like… like…” Asbel made some vague gestures, face growing very red. “I-It was just a joke, of course! You’re obviously not the kind of person who reads _those_ books.” Asbel smiled awkwardly, but it faded after a moment. “…U-Unless you are. Which is okay too! There’s nothing wrong with… with reading… hahaha…”

Richard was staring at him with wide eyes, and in that moment, Asbel wanted to dig a hole and bury himself in it. But a second later, to his relief, Richard smiled. “It’s fine, Asbel. Please don’t get so flustered.”

“I-I’m not flustered,” Asbel blurted, and it made Richard laugh. “Hey!”

“Forgive me,” Richard said, his words punctuated by chuckles.

Asbel’s face was still warm with embarrassment, but he was glad to see Richard in a better mood. “Well, all I meant to say is that it’s fine to… read whatever kind of books you like. Including adventure ones.”

Richard’s gaze fell. “But it is considered a sign of immaturity. It is not proper reading for someone… someone who is supposed to shoulder certain responsibilities.” He paused, hesitating. “Many people would judge me harshly if they knew I still read those kinds of books.”

“That’s silly. They’re just books,” Asbel muttered, crossing his arms. “Well, I’m not gonna judge you for it, so don’t worry, okay?”

Richard’s expression softened, his lips curving into a smile. “Thank you, Asbel.”

Something in Richard’s tone made Asbel’s heart flutter. “You know, my younger brother used to really enjoy adventure books, as well. He’d always tell me about the stories he read. I was never really one to sit down and read books, but I liked hearing them from him.” Asbel smiled, scratching his cheek. “What was the story you were reading about?”

“It was… about a knight. A valiant knight who went on a journey to find a cure for the illness that befell his king.”

“Really? That sounds pretty cool. Stories about knights were my favorites. They were always so full of honor, loyalty, courage…” Asbel’s voice trailed off, his dreamy gaze lost on some vision only he could see. “Back when I was a kid, all I wanted was to be a knight.”

Richard raised his eyebrows. “Why did you end up as a hunter?”

“I… I had the Potential. It always ran strong in my family, so my father got me tested when I was eleven. And, well…” Asbel scratched his cheek, a little embarrassed. “They said I had a lot of latent power. That I would make a really good hunter, and play a big role in protecting the kingdom from vampires.” Asbel hesitated. He had never spoken about this before, not to anyone, but now the words were tumbling out of his mouth. “Even so, I insisted I wanted to join the Knight’s Academy and not the Hunter’s Order. But I… I didn’t really have a choice.”

Richard’s eyes were slightly wide with surprise. “I didn’t know the Order coerced people into joining it.”

Asbel gave a nervous laugh. “Yeah… I didn’t know either. I tried running away and enrolling into the Knight Academy, but they had gotten word from the Order, so they sent me back there. Then the Order’s Council lectured me on how many humans were killed by vampires every day, on how their numbers were always increasing, on how we would eventually be consumed by them if we did not fight back… they went on and on until I couldn’t say no.” Asbel’s voice became quiet. “I hated it at first, but now, I think they did the right thing. The work hunters do is important… even if it’s not very pleasant.”

“I’m sorry,” Richard murmured, gaze falling.

Only then did Asbel realize the weight of what he had spoken. “Don’t worry about it!” he blurted, waving his hands. “Being a hunter is fine. I get to protect even more people than I would have done as a knight. It’s not that bad.” He mustered a crooked smile.

Thankfully, it made Richard’s expression soften. “It’s a shame people don’t tell stories about hunters. You are as valiant as any knight, Asbel.”

“I-I guess vampires and hunters are just too grim for stories,” Asbel muttered, feeling his face grow warm at Richard’s praise. He tried to think of something else to say, but looking into Richard’s eyes made his mind go blank. Richard had such beautiful eyes, even when they were like that, pale red. Unconsciously, Asbel’s lips parted— but whatever he had to say faded as the ship gave a sudden lurch.

Taken by surprise, Asbel lost his balance, and as fate would have it, he found himself crashing over Richard and dragging them both to the floor. He heard the sound of books tumbling behind them, felt Richard’s body under his own, and opened his eyes to strands of golden hair.

Asbel knew he should’ve been pulling himself up and blurting an apology, but he couldn’t force his body to move. The rise and fall of Richard’s chest beneath him bound him in place. All he managed to do was turn his head just enough to look into Richard’s eyes, slightly wide, and Richard’s lips, half-parted. Asbel’s heart thundered in his chest. If only… if only…

“Asbel?”

Richard’s anxious tone made Asbel freeze, and in less than a second he sprung up and held out his hand to Richard. “S-Sorry. The ship moved so suddenly, and…”

“It’s fine,” Richard cut in, taking Asbel’s hand but avoiding his gaze. Richard gave Asbel’s fingers a gentle squeeze, so brief Asbel wondered if it had happened at all, and then stood with his help. Finally, Richard’s hesitant eyes met Asbel’s once again. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Asbel blurted, feeling his cheeks flush. “Do you want to go outside? It looks like the ship is setting sail.”

Richard hesitated. “I’m not sure if I should. Captain Patricia said that my hood would unsettle her passengers.”

“Well… you don’t need to wear it. Just keep your head bowed a little and your gaze lowered. If anyone tries to talk to you, just act like you’re really shy, or something like that.”

Richard paled as if the idea frightened him, yet a moment later his expression switched back to his usual composure. “I understand.”

Asbel opened the door, peeking at both sides of the corridor before gesturing for Richard to follow. Richard walked uneasily, eyes locked on the floor, his pace slow. Beyond the corridor, out on the deck, Asbel heard the hubbub made by the crew as the ship departed from land.

“Richard, quick,” Asbel muttered, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him outside.

Shouted orders, lapping of waves, enthusiastic comments and a soft breeze all mingled together. The crewmembers moved with the certainty of sailors who had spent more time over the waters than over land. Patricia oversaw it all, a satisfied smile on her lips. By the rails, out of the crewmembers’ way, the other passengers stood, watching as Velanik Port dwindled in size.

Asbel glanced over his shoulder and found Richard staring wide-eyed, fascinated by the scene. The Foselos river was so wide it felt as if they were heading out to sea. Was this Richard’s first time on a ship?

“C’mon,” Asbel said, grinning and grabbing Richard’s arm, “Let’s find a less crowded spot.”

Richard nodded absently, his eyes lingering on the people moving about the deck as Asbel led him away. Large as the ship was, they managed to find a spot by the rail with no one else in sight. Asbel tightened his grip on the rail and leaned forward as much as he dared, feeling the cool wind on his face, closing his eyes as his hair was rustled by a gust. He didn’t usually return to the Order by boat, but he always enjoyed it. It made him feel so alive.

Asbel opened his eyes after a moment, glancing back at Richard. Strangely, Richard was looking at him with an odd expression, his head slightly tilted and a gentle smile on his lips. Asbel wondered if there was something on his face - maybe his hair was looking funny after all that wind? To his further confusion, Richard’s cheeks reddened slightly when he realized Asbel was looking back at him.

“Are you okay, Richard? Is the sun making you dizzy?”

“I’m fine, Asbel,” Richard replied a bit too quickly, the color in his cheeks deepening. “Thank you for worrying about me.”

“Uh? It’s no problem at all.” Asbel turned around so his back was leaning on the rail, and flashed a smile at Richard. “How are you liking the ship?”

“It’s very pleasant,” Richard said in a content tone, taking a step forward to stand next to Asbel. He glanced over the rail, peering down into the water. “I’m surprised by how swiftly it sails.”

“It’s because we’re going downriver. The Foselos’ current can get pretty fast. Is this your first time on a ship?”

“I’ve only been on the leisure vessels that sail close to the shores of Barona. But it’s… it’s been a long time,” he murmured, gaze lost in the distance. “When I was a child, I loved those trips. I would lean by the rail and dream of sailing far beyond Windor, of encountering the people and the cultures I had only read about in books.”

“And becoming a pirate, fighting sea monsters, and looking for treasure?” Asbel asked, grinning.

It made Richard chuckle. “That, too,” he said, a smile on his lips.

Asbel watched Richard’s smile, watched the way he gripped the rail and leaned forward, watched his golden hair being blown by the wind. For some reason, everything about Richard seemed different from other people. Not because he wasn’t human, no, it was just… Richard. Asbel struggled to wrap his head around it, to understand why Richard was just so _special_ , but he always came up with too many and yet not enough reasons.

A _thump_ dragged Asbel out of his musings. Mind racing, he found Richard kneeling on the floor, panting. Without a second thought, Asbel dropped down next to him. “Richard! What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m… just a little lightheaded. I should head back to our cabin.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dragged you here. You’ve gone so long without feeding, and although it’s cloudy, the sun can still…”

“Asbel, it’s fine,” Richard cut in, a weak smile on his lips. “Could you help me up, please?”

Asbel immediately complied, slipping an arm around Richard’s waist and carefully helping him stand. “You can lean on me while you walk, or if you’re too tired, I’ll carry you.”

“That’s not…” Richard murmured, barely audible. Then, a little louder, “Leaning on you should be enough. Thank you, Asbel.”

“No problem! Just let me know if you can’t walk anymore. I wouldn’t mind carrying you.”

Richard looked up at him with slightly wide eyes, but glanced away a moment later. “Thank you,” he muttered, even quieter than before, “I will tell you if I cannot walk.”

They made their way back to the cabin, and to Asbel’s slight disappointment, Richard did not ask to be carried. But Richard’s weight against his shoulder was reassuring, and if Richard had been tense at first, he had relaxed by the time they stepped inside. Asbel led him to the bed, and sat by his side.

“So…” Asbel began, scratching the back of his neck, “We can do it now, if you want.”

“Now?” Richard’s voice was laden with disbelief, but his eyes showed anticipation. “I thought you meant to wait until tonight.”

“I think it should be fine to do it now,” Asbel mumbled, embarrassed. The way this conversation was going made him think of being newlyweds again. “I’ve had a meal not too long ago, and I can sleep after we’re done.”

Richard’s eyes locked onto Asbel’s. Whenever they spoke of blood-drinking, Richard’s expression turned into a mixture of hunger and fear, his predatory vampire instincts clashing with the gentleness that remained even after his Turning. Richard turned away from Asbel, and then looked at him again. He nodded.

Asbel felt his heartbeat increase, his stomach lurch. No matter how many times they did this, he was sure he would not stop feeling this way. He was barely able to think as he stripped out of his coat and shirt, as he tilted his head to one side and bared his neck for Richard. The only things in his mind were the lips brushing over his skin, the fangs digging into his flesh.

This time, he felt no pain, none at all. Just that pleasure, more than he thought was possible, more than he remembered. Richard pulled him close, wrapped his arms around his body, and despite the bite’s effect, Asbel was able to return the embrace. He felt Richard’s temperature change, slowly becoming warmer, warmer. So warm.

If only this could last forever.

Asbel didn’t black out this time. Awake, he felt the pulsing of Richard’s vampiric aura, steadily returning to its full strength. How strange, that what was meant to alarm Asbel became a reassurance. That aura was Richard’s life; feeling its presence was like resting against Richard’s chest and listening to his heartbeat…

With a sigh, Richard pulled away, and Asbel suddenly felt very cold. It had felt so brief - he wondered if Richard drank less blood than usual. But when Richard lifted his gaze, and shining scarlet eyes met Asbel’s, he knew it was not case. Still… Asbel wouldn’t object if it had gone on for longer. Even if it meant all of his blood was drained, if it was for Richard…

Asbel pushed the thought away from his mind. That was a place he wasn’t supposed to go.

Richard was still looking at him, those bright eyes inquisitive. A moment later, he looked away, running his tongue over reddened lips.

“You okay?” Asbel asked without thinking.

Richard turned towards him again, his gaze lingering on Asbel’s bare chest before rising to his face. “Yes. I…” he trailed off, averting his eyes once more. “Thank you.”

“N-No problem.” Richard was acting weird, Asbel thought. Had he done something wrong?

“…Aren’t you cold, Asbel?”

Asbel jolted, his face burning with embarrassment. He rarely minded removing his top, but for some reason he now felt very exposed. “I-I’ll get dressed,” he mumbled, quickly pulling his shirt over his head.

Richard watched with a tiny smile and an expression Asbel couldn’t quite understand.

“I… I think I will go see if I can get something to eat,” Asbel stammered, smiling awkwardly and waving a quick goodbye before he scrambled out of the cabin. He was actually more sleepy than hungry, but for the moment, he really needed some fresh air.

Asbel was lost in thought as he made his way around the ship. He barely paid any mind to the way the other passengers stared and pointed at him. He was back on deck when he heard a high-pitched voice call out for him:

“Mr. Hunter!”

Asbel’s blood froze. He turned towards the voice, and found a young girl, eleven at most, running in his direction. Trailing after her, a concerned-looking woman blurted, “Call him Master Hunter, dearie! It’s more polite!”

Asbel, now more confused than startled, watched speechlessly as the girl stopped in front of him, looking at his hunter’s badge with starry eyes. “Can I touch it?” she asked, hands already reaching up towards the medallion.

“Um… sure?” He bent down a little, keeping one finger discreetly holding the chain. While he doubted the girl would try to yank it off, it was better to play safe. While nowhere near as important as his sword, his badge was still very valuable.

The girl’s small fingers gripped the medallion, and her tiny lips curved into a big grin. “Wow! It tingles!”

“You can feel it?” Asbel asked, surprised. Did this girl have the Potential?

“Can’t you?”

“O-Of course I can.” Every hunter was able to feel the aura given off by adamantine if they touched it. The stronger their latent Potential, the more intensely they felt it. In Asbel’s case, it was almost a little painful, but he had grown used to it.

“Dearie, please let the hunter go.” It was the older woman, patting the girl’s shoulder. “You are getting in his way.” She looked up at Asbel, smiling apologetically. “I’m very sorry for my niece’s behavior. She is very… enthusiastic about hunters.”

Asbel shook his head. “It’s fine. Are you taking her to the Order for testing?”

“Why, yes, Master Hunter.” The woman’s eyes were wide. “How do you know? Can you feel… um… _it_?”

“Oh, no, I’m not a tester.” Asbel scratched the back of his head. “But I think she might make it. Just… just a hunch.”

“ _Really?_ That’s fantastic! Oh, she always was a strong kid, so strong we saved the money to travel to the Order…” She turned to her niece. “Did you hear that, dearie? You might be taken up for training!”

The little girl’s mouth opened wide, her surprise so great that she let go of Asbel’s medallion. He took the opportunity to straighten himself and put the badge inside his shirt.

“I’m gonna be a hunter!” She began jumping up and down, running around the deck. “I’m gonna be a hunter!”

“Thank you so much, Master Hunter,” the woman said, bowing low. “If she does make it, our family… If we can leave the periphery and move to the Inner Cities, where we won’t have to live in fear of vampires… It’s like a dream!” She bowed again, and then ran off to make sure her niece did not fall overboard.

Asbel felt a bit awkward. Hopefully the girl would be accepted for training; he would hate to have given them false hope. Sighing, he resumed walking towards the eating area, his thoughts turning to Richard once again.

Before long, he ran into Patricia. Her eyes widened slightly when their gazes met. “Oh, hello, Asbel Lhant. Is there anything I may help you with?”

“Ah, yes… I was wondering where and when lunch will be served.”

“I see. It was served not long ago, in fact. I had your meal sent to your cabin, but the sailor in charge of delivering it told me you did not answer the door. It seems like you and your companion were… occupied.”

Asbel’s cheeks reddened. “W-We were not—”

“Fear not, Asbel Lhant, my crew does not spread rumors. But you might want to let me know when you would prefer for your meals to be served, so my sailors will not risk interrupting your intimate matters.”

Speechless and feeling as if his face was on fire, Asbel could only nod. “I will… I will send word.”

“Good. Would you like your meal delivered soon?”

Asbel nodded again.

Solemnly, Patricia returned the gesture, leaving Asbel alone with his embarrassment.

* * *

That night, Asbel had trouble sleeping. He was tired, very tired, but every time he glanced at the figure on the other bed, his heart began to race. What was it about Richard that made Asbel unable to think straight? His looks? But no, Asbel had met plenty of good-looking people in his life, and none had made him feel anything quite like that.

It just made no sense. He had only met Richard a couple weeks ago. And there was so much Asbel still did not know about him. Richard’s past, for one - who he had been, and how he had ended up like this. Would he ever find out, or would Richard keep on hiding it from him?

And in a way… did it really matter? He felt like he knew Richard so well. And Richard, too, understood him better than anyone. It really… it really was a shame he would have to leave Richard at the Order. If only they could travel together forever.

If only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the huge wait and the relatively short chapter! There was more I wanted to include in it, but since it's been so long since I last updated, I decided to post it as-is so I wouldn't make the wait any longer than that. I do have plans to write a lot more over the next few weeks so hopefully this fic will have far more regular updates.
> 
> Thanks so much for sticking with this story thus far and I hope you're enjoying it!


	6. Rumors in Gralesyde

As the Pelune sailed further downriver, the shores of the Foselos became dotted with small villages. It was a sign they were no longer in Windor’s outskirts, but rather in the zone of transition between the Outer Towns and the Inner Cities.

This was a diverse region, not as thriving and populous as the Inner Cities, but far safer and wealthier than the Outer Towns. Around here, hunter patrols were more common, allowing the citizens to live without the heavy air of fear that permeated the periphery. Whenever the Pelune was close enough to one of the shores, they could see people working on the docks, fishing, and going about their lives. Even from afar, they seemed more carefree than the commoners from the outskirts.

And Richard, as always, watched everything. His hands were tight on the Pelune’s rail, his long hair blowing in the wind. Richard never grew tired of watching the common people, and Asbel never grew tired of watching Richard.

But today, there was something different about Richard’s gaze. Asbel noticed a certain melancholy in his eyes, a kind of longing that was mystifying.

“The kingdom is so vast,” Richard murmured, spellbound gaze locked on the shore. “And I know so little of it.” His voice was sorrowful.

“Most people haven’t seen much of the country,” Asbel said. “No one in Windor travels much, even among nobility. I think you know a lot, Richard,” he added with a smile.

Richard’s spell broke, and he looked at Asbel. “But it’s not enough. I wish I knew far more than I do.” A pause. Richard sighed, “Forgive me, Asbel. I shouldn’t be so glum when you’re attempting to cheer me up.”

Asbel put his hand on Richard’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it! It’s not like you can just choose to be in a good mood.” He grinned. “I’ll just have to try harder to keep you entertained. It’s boring to sit on the same boat for days, right?”

Richard smiled. “It is indeed. It was exciting at first, but now, I can’t wait to go on shore. I’ve seen so many places while traveling with you. I am hoping to see more.” There was a fondness in Richard’s voice that made Asbel’s chest warm.

“We will,” Asbel said. “Tomorrow, the ship will make a stop in Oul Raye—” Asbel’s voice suddenly faded. He swallowed.

“Asbel?”

“It’s… nothing. Forget about it.”

Richard frowned in concern, but did not press Asbel further.

The warmth was now cold. Asbel remembered Oul Raye had a hunter outpost.

* * *

Asbel didn’t sleep that night. Came morning, his lids were heavy and his chest tight.

Richard noticed; of course, he always somehow did. This time, he did press Asbel for it. And Asbel gave in.

“There’s a hunter outpost in Oul Raye. The ship will be stopping there in a couple hours.”

Richard’s eyes widened. “Do you have a plan, Asbel?”

“I’m… I’m not sure. I doubt we’ll be able to escape detection, so a hunter will definitely come aboard the ship. I can talk it out like I did with Hubert, I guess.”

Richard nodded, uneasy, and spoke no further.

Really, it wasn’t a very good plan. There was a chance the hunter on duty would announce a vampire’s presence and cause widespread panic. Not only would he and Richard be forced to disembark, but news of the incident - that the Order was sparing a vampire - would spread.

That would be very, very bad. And so, as the Pelune approached the Oul Raye port, Asbel had his heart in his throat.

He and Richard waited in their cabin. Richard sat on his bed, reading a book, though by the speed he was flipping the pages, Asbel wondered if he was doing any actual reading. Well, at least he was trying to occupy his mind; Asbel, on the other hand, was doing nothing but twiddle his thumbs in anxiety.

They felt the ship dock, and heard the rattle of boots as some of the passengers disembarked. Asbel swallowed. He was starting to sweat.

“Asbel?”

Richard’s voice nearly made Asbel jump. “Yeah, Richard?”

“I… I believe I can feel a hunter’s presence approaching.”

There it was. Asbel’s stomach lurched. “Okay. Thanks for warning me, Richard. I will… deal with it.” Somehow. Again.

Back to twiddling his thumbs he went, faster now. He had considered disembarking the ship and talking to the hunter on shore - maybe preventing him from making a ruckus and telling everyone a vampire was onboard - but the idea that he and the other hunter could miss each other terrified him. If the hunter made it past Asbel and went straight for Richard in the cabin…

The thought chilled him to the bone.

All they could do was wait.

“The hunter is close,” Richard murmured, pulling down his hood to cover his eyes. It was pointless, really; the hunter would know his nature instantly.

Asbel exhaled, hand clenching around the bedsheets. His sword was by his side, but he hoped with all his might he wouldn’t need it.

Finally, there was knocking on the door.

Asbel sprung up at once. “It’s unlocked,” he blurted, voice almost cracking. “Come in.”

The door opened with a creak, and a hunter stepped inside.

He was a tall, lean man, with a face unknown to Asbel. His harsh narrow eyes surveyed the room, immediately going to Richard, then Asbel. His gaze flickered to Asbel’s medallion, and lingered on Asbel’s sword.

“Asbel Lhant,” he finally said, voice sounding as if he had just bitten into a spoiled fruit. “I am Olan, hunter of the Third Division, and current protector of Oul Raye. I was informed you were bringing a vampire to the Order.”

His voice was steel, sharp and cold, more so as he said the word ‘vampire’. But all Asbel felt was relief. Hubert had been here, and warned this Olan about him and Richard. His younger brother really was a lifesaver.

“Your information is right,” Asbel replied, standing straighter.

“I understand. A _vampire_.” Olan’s eyes were locked on Richard. “I will examine it.”

Before Asbel had time to protest, Olan took long strides towards Richard, and in less than a second was standing before him. Olan reached out as if to yank off Richard’s hood— but to his surprise, Richard suddenly stood and removed the hood himself.

Olan paled for a moment before he managed to compose himself, glaring daggers at Richard. But Richard matched his gaze, proud and fierce, his scarlet eyes radiating confidence. None of them moved; the air was so heavy with tension Asbel feared Olan would unsheathe his sword and attack.

However, a second later, Olan looked away.

Asbel released the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. His heart was racing. He glanced at Richard, and surprisingly, he remained poised, his bearing worthy of a king. It was awe-inspiring, but Asbel couldn’t help but wish Richard acted meeker. This Olan did not seem an easy hunter to deal with.

Olan finally steadied himself, turning his hateful gaze to Asbel. “It has been feeding.” he said, his voice so low it was almost a growl. “On whose blood?”

Asbel held back his anger at the way Olan referred to Richard. “ _He_ has been drinking my blood.”

_“Yours?”_ Olan all but snarled, his face contorting in anger and disbelief. “How foolish are y—” He suddenly paused, words dying in his mouth.

Silence hung in the air.

Olan stared at the sword hanging from Asbel’s belt. Excalibur. Finally, he clenched his jaw, and muttered through gritted teeth, “I am sure you know what you are doing, _Wielder._ ”

Once more, Asbel exhaled his tension away.

“I do know,” he replied, feeling less confident than he sounded. Did he know, really?

Well, it didn’t matter. All wanted now was for Olan to _leave_. The man was still glaring at him, as if expecting an explanation. Asbel had none. Not for him.

“Well… that’s all,” Asbel said, trying to appear imposing, like Richard had done before. “You… You are dismissed.”

Olan’s eyes widened, widened so much that Asbel regretted his words. He wondered if Olan would cuss at him, or try to slap him - after all, Asbel did not really have the authority to order him around, despite their difference in rank.

But thankfully, Olan did not retort. He glared one last time as he turned on his heels and walked away, hurling the door shut with so much force it was a wonder it did not break.

It was over.

Asbel flopped on his bed with a sigh. He turned around to face Richard, who was still standing, looking at the door with a blank expression. Asbel couldn’t tell whether Richard was impassive or too filled with tension to relax.

“Well, that wasn’t too bad,” Asbel said, trying to lighten the mood.

Richard blinked, looking surprised to hear Asbel’s voice. When he turned to Asbel, his posture relaxed considerably.

“I suppose it wasn’t,” Richard mustered a small smile. “But I do wonder if that hunter had an upset stomach. Or maybe he was very constipated.”

The joke, silly as it was, was so unexpected coming from _Richard_ that Asbel burst out in laughter. “That would explain a lot,” he managed to say between chuckles, “Hunters don’t tend to be very cheery people, but geez. That guy really had a stick up there.”

To Asbel’s delight, Richard chuckled, that soft cheery laughter that made him close his eyes and cover his mouth with slender fingers. When he stopped, he looked at Asbel, face radiant and lips curved into a smile. “It’s a shame hunters aren’t more like you, Asbel.”

Asbel froze. “…What do you mean?”

Richard blinked, as if surprised by the question. “I mean that you are such a kind man, Asbel. You do your best to keep those around you happy, you are humble and caring, and you never turn your back to those in need.” Suddenly Richard paused, blushing. “I’m sorry. It is rather arrogant of me to act as if I know you so well when we have only met a few weeks ago.”

Asbel’s mouth was agape, his face very warm. “N-No, I’m not offended! Just… surprised.” He scratched his cheek, knowing he must be very red. “And… flattered. Thanks, Richard. It… it means a lot, coming from you.”

For a moment, Richard only stared at him, eyes wide. Then, slowly, his lips parted into a big smile. He did not say anything more, but for the rest of the day, Richard was radiant.

* * *

The Pelune’s second stop was also its final destination: the Inner City of Gralesyde.

Gralesyde was the outermost of the Inner Cities, and one of the richest, being the largest trading hub of the kingdom. In the Gralesyde region, the Foselos widened into the massive Lake Grale, allowing Gralesyde to have the largest port of all Windor. Gralesyde received goods from the Outer Towns, and redistributed them to the Inner Cities, by land and by ship - and that was the source of its wealth.

On top of that, Gralesyde was responsible for controlling the passage of ships across the Foselos. No ships coming from the periphery were allowed to travel beyond Gralesyde unless they belonged to a powerful noble. And Captain Patricia, of course, wasn’t one.

Therefore, it was in Gralesyde that Asbel and Richard would disembark.

Captain Patricia came to their cabin on the morning before the Pelune was to dock in Gralesyde, bringing their breakfast herself. She thanked Asbel for honoring her humble ship, and ended the visit with a deep bow. To Patricia’s shock, Asbel bowed in return, expressing his admiration for her and her ship. The proud captain left their cabin with a bright smile on her face.

Hours later, they disembarked among the other passengers. A hunter oversaw it, her eyes fixed on Asbel and Richard and all but disregarding everyone else. She likely had word from Hubert, for she did not try to stop them.

Asbel wondered how far word had been spread. There was no record of a vampire ever being captured alive, so the fact that one was being taken to the Order would be shocking news. While he knew that Hubert would not run his mouth, Asbel still feared how much other hunters had come to know.

With that in mind, as soon as they stepped out of the gangplank, Asbel guided Richard away from the crowd, to a deserted corner in the shade of a building.

“Let’s wait here,” Asbel said, “I wanna talk to that hunter before she leaves.”

Once the disembarking was over, the hunter, noticing that Asbel had lingered, walked over towards them. Unlike Olan, she seemed to be in a decent mood. Thankfully.

“Asbel Lhant?”

“Yes,” Asbel replied. The hunter seemed vaguely familiar, but Asbel couldn’t quite put a name to her face. “You are…?”

“I’m the lead protector of Gralesyde. My name is Fermat.”

Now Asbel was sure he hadn’t met her before, but… “Are you from the Amarcian Enclave?”

Fermat smiled. “Yes. You know Pascal, I bet?”

“Ha… I sure do.” For better or for worse, _everyone_ knew Pascal. “You two have a similar hairstyle.”

“It’s an Amarcian thing.” She smiled again. Then, she glanced at Richard, and her expression became somber. “Well… You two should probably get going. I don’t want to keep you.”

Asbel’s stomach tied in a knot. “Do… Do the other hunters in Gralesyde know what’s going on?”

Fermat raised her eyebrows. She looked around, and dropped her voice to a whisper, “I only said they would feel a vampiric presence passing by, but by Hubert’s suggestion, I didn’t tell them the details.”

That was good; Asbel felt a bit relieved. “Fermat, I wanted to spend a bit of time in the city to rest at an inn and restock my provisions. Do you think that would be an issue?”

“I can work around it.”

“Thanks. Do you happen to know if the patrolling hunters between here and the Order know what’s going on?”

Fermat shook her head. “Hubert didn’t tell me anything about it.”

“I see.” He could only wish for the best. “Thanks, Fermat.”

“No problem. Send my regards to Pascal, if you see her.” She smiled, waved a nervous goodbye, and left.

Asbel and Richard watched as she disappeared among the crowd. Once she was gone, Richard said, “She was rather polite.”

Asbel couldn’t help but chuckle. “Were you expecting someone like that Olan guy?”

“I was bracing myself for it.” Richard flashed a playful smile, and Asbel found himself mirroring it. He really liked this side of Richard.

Not that he didn’t like his other sides, of course.

“I was thinking we should go to an inn,” Asbel said, looking up at the sky. It was a bright afternoon, not a cloud in sight. The sun would likely tire Richard, even with his hood. Thankfully, he had drunk Asbel’s blood in the ship again, two days before, so at least they wouldn’t need to worry about that.

The thought sent a chill down Asbel’s spine.

“Have you ever been to Gralesyde?” he blurted, trying to distract himself from his own embarrassment.

Richard hesitated. “I was very young. I remember little of it.”

“Oh. Well, maybe you don’t remember, but there are some pretty fancy inns here.” Asbel grinned. He didn’t care much for luxury, but it sounded like the kind of thing Richard would like, and as a hunter, Asbel could take them wherever he wanted. “Soft feather beds, sparkling furniture, and all that. I can take you to a good one!”

To Asbel’s surprise, Richard didn’t return his smile. Instead, he looked away, muttering, “I would prefer a simpler one.”

Asbel’s eyes widened. “What? Why?”

Richard’s gaze fell. He did not answer. Asbel frowned; he was sure someone like Richard would prefer a fancy inn. But then again, when Asbel thought about it… If Richard had been a noble, staying in one of the city’s best inns meant the risk of running into someone he knew.

“Okay. We can stay in a simple inn.” He placed his hand on Richard’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Richard looked up, and smiled softly. Now that was the expression Asbel wanted to see.

They left their quiet corner in the port, and ventured among the crowds of people. Gralesyde was usually full of travelers, but in that afternoon, it went beyond that; the streets were packed to the brim. As a result, guards were at every corner, making sure no muggings happened in the confusion. Duke Dalen, ruler of Gralesyde, did have a reputation for prioritizing the citizens’ security.

Asbel kept glancing at Richard to make sure he was okay. Richard looked a bit overwhelmed under his hood, his expression anxious. Asbel took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Richard smiled, but it looked forced.

Well, there was nothing they could do but keep on until they reached an inn.

The crowds did not ease, and Asbel began to notice something strange. Not only was the city unnaturally packed, there was also a certain anxiety permeating the air. All of the commoners had worried expressions on their faces, and the hushed voices spoke grim words:

_“…everyone from the periphery is coming downriver…”_

_“…cities are packed… they say you can’t enter Barona without a pass…"_

_“…told me the ports will be closed, even in Gralesyde…”_

_“…some are being sent back to the periphery… crammed in ships and sent back…”_

_“…heard the outskirts are being abandoned, and soon the Outer Towns will be overrun…”_

Asbel swallowed, his body growing cold. The Outer Towns were faring well, he told himself. He had just been there, after all. They were no worse than before. And people always traveled to the Inner Cities, it was just the way of things.

Baseless rumors, all of them. Asbel tried to block them out.

As they got farther from the port, the crowds eased a little. But the climate was the same, the air heavy with tension, and different words caught his ears:

_“…I hear Duke Dalen is going to rebel against the king…”_

_“…rumors, that’s all they are. There’s no way a level-headed man like Duke Dalen…”_

_“…openly spoken against Archduke Cedric’s rule. It’s only a matter of time…”_

_“…looking for the prince, yes he is, and when he finds him, the kingdom will be…”_

Those were easier to ignore. They did not concern Asbel. The Order operated apart from the Crown, and hunters only had business with vampires. During their training, they were told over and over not to get involved with politics. Asbel, for instance, couldn’t even name all the members of the royal family.

Far more importantly, the crowds seemed to be making Richard anxious, for his hand was trembling around Asbel’s.

“We’re almost there,” Asbel said, giving Richard’s hand a squeeze.

Richard nodded vaguely in reply.

Finally, Asbel saw the inn he had been aiming for, a simple but well-maintained three-story building. The innkeeper displayed no surprise at seeing Asbel’s badge; hunters were common in all of the Inner Cities. Still, Asbel was graced with a dignified bow, and led to the inn’s best room.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Asbel flopped on one of the beds. “We can rest here for a bit, and leave once it’s dark.”

Richard nodded absently.

Asbel frowned in concern. They were no longer among the crowds, so why was Richard so upset? “Are you tired, Richard? We can rest here for a bit longer. How about we leave tomorrow at dusk?”

Richard turned to Asbel, conflict clear on his face. “Would that be okay, Asbel? Didn’t you tell Fermat we would leave tonight?”

“I only said we would stay a bit in the city to rest. Spending the night is gonna be fine.” He smiled, hoping it would reassure Richard.

A moment of silence, and then Richard answered, “If you are sure it is fine, I think I would prefer it, Asbel. Thank you.”

“It _is_ fine!” Asbel said, standing up and playfully tapping Richard’s shoulder.

Richard smiled briefly, but gave no further reply.

“Well… I’ll go ask the innkeeper to restock my supplies,” Asbel said, turning around. “Be right back, okay?”

His chest felt tight as he closed the door behind him

* * *

Later that night, Asbel slept.

But Richard didn’t.

He found himself staring at the ceiling, all the conversations he overheard replaying in his mind. Knowing Dalen, those were no mere rumors. He really would rebel against Cedric.

And Dalen was looking for him.

Richard felt sick. How he wanted to run to Dalen’s manor, to tell him everything, all he knew about Cedric. That he was worse, far worse than all of Windor could ever dream. A monster. But so was Richard. He could not show himself to anyone he had known, not after what he had become. Who would believe a vampire?

Who, other than Asbel?

His gaze shifted from the ceiling to the one sleeping on the bed next to him. Asbel. Sometimes, Richard could not believe he was real. He wouldn’t be surprised if he woke up one day to discover that everything from the past weeks had been a hallucination produced by his starving mind. How could someone like Asbel exist? Someone so kind, so selfless, so pure?

If only he could run somewhere with Asbel, and forget about the rest of the world.

But no. Asbel would never agree to it. He was too honorable, too loyal, to abandon his duty. And Richard, too, could not live knowing his vile uncle was sitting upon the throne, perched on his father’s corpse.

If only he could tell Asbel. Would he believe him? He had trusted Richard completely until now, but who would believe such an impossible story, that the man holding the crown was secretly a vampire? Not even Asbel could swallow that. Richard was sure of it.

And the Order. Richard had avoided thinking about it, but now, close as they were, he could not push it from his mind. They would make him tell his story. And then what?

He had to make up his mind. His time with Asbel was running out.

* * *

It was in the dead of night that Asbel awoke, and realized Richard wasn’t by his side.

Panic. That was all he felt, unbridled panic and horror, horror that he had lost Richard. But then he felt something else - Richard’s aura, coming from somewhere in the city.

Asbel dashed from his bed, out of the inn and into the streets, running as fast as he could. He had no time to focus on _where_ Richard was, he just had to get there, and fast. Without thinking, he ran, ran and ran.

And finally found Richard, sitting on a bench in the city’s main plaza.

Asbel nearly tripped over himself when he saw Richard. He was a lone, cloaked figure in the night, staring towards the long bridge that led towards a small island in Lake Grale.

But he was fine. Heavens, he was _fine_.

Asbel walked towards Richard, and he was almost by his side when Richard turned towards him.

“Asbel?” he blurted, eyes wide.

_He only noticed me now?_ “Hey, Richard. Is everything alright?”

Richard swallowed, glancing back to the bridge. Beyond it, at the island, Gralesyde Manor stood, where the current ruling noble family lived. “Forgive me for worrying you. I thought the inn was a bit stuffy, so I came here to get some fresh air.”

“All the way here? Just for fresh air?”

“I got distracted,” Richard said, avoiding Asbel’s eyes. “I decided to take a walk, but lost my way, and ended up here.”

Asbel frowned. He didn’t really buy Richard’s story, but he wouldn’t force the truth out of him.

Taking a seat at Richard’s side, Asbel said, “Next time, please don’t leave without telling me. I… I wouldn’t mind taking a walk with you. I will go wherever you want to go.”

Richard looked up at Asbel, his eyes slightly wide, his lips parted. “Asbel, I…”

Asbel waited, heart in his throat.

Richard paused, swallowing. “…Forgive me,” he finally said, gaze falling.

Richard spoke no more that night. In silence, they made their way back to the inn.


	7. Parting Gift

They left Gralesyde the following evening.

Even after dusk, the city was bustling, and not a single soul cared for the pair of travelers who went past the gates. Fermat was there, regarding them with a cautious gaze. Asbel wondered if that was her usual time on duty, or if she had swapped with someone else to see them off.

Asbel was relieved to be in the Inner Cities region; traveling in this countryside was different. They did not have to fear any vampires, for hunter patrols were abundant. In fact, on their second night of travel, they ran into a hunter.

Richard had pointed the hunter’s presence to Asbel in advance, so they knew what to watch for. But the hunter did not come close; as soon as they recognized Asbel - or more likely, Asbel’s sword - they turned and left.

Asbel knew what it meant. Hubert had already informed the Order, and the Council had issued a notice to the patrols.

It was funny, really, that the thought of the Council waiting for them made his stomach feel so queasy. He was sure that they would shelter Richard. But then, wasn’t that part of his fear? That Richard would be taken from him, and Asbel would return to his previous life, hunting vampires, alone?

He tried not to think of it.

Richard never spoke of the Order, either. He had forgotten the incident at Gralesyde, too, his mood now strangely buoyant. Richard would cheerfully remark on the different types on flowers they encountered along the roads, on the animals, on the trees. Whenever Asbel looked at him, Richard’s lips curved into a smile.

And if Asbel noticed a stiffness to Richard’s smile, or a hint of sorrow in Richard’s eyes, he hoped it was only his imagination.

They traveled for days over minor roads, passing forests and vast expanses of grassland. And then, the landscape began to change. The moist, vivid green grass gave way to dry ground; few trees were in sight - instead, everything was rocky, shades of gray and brown.

Over the silence, Asbel swore he could hear the sound of pickaxes hitting rock, but he knew it must’ve been his imagination, given it was late at night. In this area, though, the metallic noises filled the air so often that just looking at the rocks made the clanking resound inside his head.

Asbel turned to Richard. “We’re making one last stop before we head to the Order’s headquarters. It’s close by.”

Richard raised his eyebrows. “Where are we stopping?”

“At a friend’s place. I’ll introduce you.” Asbel paused. “Do you know where we are?”

Richard glanced around, surveying the rocky environment. “Is this… a mining region?”

Asbel nodded. “Yep. This is where the Order gets most of its supply of adamantine.”

Richard’s eyes widened. “Really? That’s incredible. It’s so vast, and yet I had never heard of it. I had no idea where the Order acquired adamantine.”

“It’s not something we usually announce,” Asbel replied. “I mean, it’s not a secret either, but I guess no one cares for adamantine other than us.”

“Only the Order knows how to forge weapons out of adamantine, after all,” Richard muttered, half to himself. Then, louder, “Asbel, do you know if the tale of the Blacksmith and the Swordmaster is actually real?”

“It’s real. At least that’s what they tell us.” Asbel scratched his head. “Well, maybe some of it is an exaggeration, like the Swordmaster killing thousands of vampires alone. But we know they’re the ones who founded the Order, and that the Blacksmith was the one who discovered a way to forge adamantine weapons.”

Richard did not reply, his expression contemplative as he watched the horizon. The rocky landscape was a dark silhouette against the starry sky. Quietly, they resumed walking. It wasn’t long before Asbel recognized the shape of little houses in the distance, simple constructions where the miners lived. All lights were out at this time.

And then, beyond the little houses, a far larger building rose. While the houses were wooden, this building was made of polished stone, tall and imposing. From its windows, light poured out.

“Of course she’s up,” Asbel grumbled.

Richard raised his eyebrows. “Is that where your friend lives?”

“Yeah.” Suddenly, Asbel stopped walking. “Um… I have to tell you something, Richard.”

Richard blinked in confusion.

“My friend is… a bit weird. No— _really_ weird. If she says anything funny to you, um… Please don’t take it to heart.”

“I… I understand.” Richard sounded slightly afraid. Asbel didn’t blame him; he probably _should_ be afraid.

They climbed over the stone steps. Asbel took a deep breath, raising his hand to knock. However, a moment before he could do so, the door sprung open, hitting him square in the face.

Asbel’s head was swimming, his vision clouded by blinking stars, when he heard a familiar high-pitched voice: “Heeeey, Asb— _woah!_ You okay? What happened to your nose?”

Asbel groaned, touching his nose carefully. Not broken, but bloody. “ _You_ happened, Pascal! Dammit, I haven’t even stepped inside yet. This is a new record.”

Pascal laughed, clapping her hands in amusement. “My bad, my bad! I was just _so_ excited, because… because…!”

Pascal lifted her arm, pointing at something behind Asbel. He turned to find Richard, wide-eyed, staring at Pascal’s fingers as if it could shoot bullets at him.

“Your vampire friend!” she bellowed, and then all but _leaped_ towards Richard.

Asbel barely had time to put himself between them. Pascal ended up colliding with Asbel, nearly sending him - and by extension, Richard, who was just behind Asbel - tumbling down the steps. “Pascal, no!” Asbel blurted, “No touching!”

Pascal staggered back, regaining her balance. “Aww, seriously? Not even a bit?”

“N-Not unless you ask first!” He saw Pascal grin. “And _only_ if he says it’s okay.”

She pouted. “Fine, fine.” Then, turning to Richard, “Heya! Can I touch you?”

For the first time since Asbel met him, Richard’s mouth was agape. It took a moment before he composed himself, and nervously said, “I-It would depend on the type of touching.”

Pascal laughed. “Nothing lewd, I promise! I mean, it’s not every day that I can touch a vampire, y’know? At least not without them trying to bite off my head.”

Richard swallowed. “We may shake hands?”

“Yay!” Pascal bounced forward, taking both of Richard’s hands and vigorously shaking them. “Holy moly, your hands are _cold!_ ”

Richard smiled awkwardly, glancing down at Pascal’s hands, still shaking his own a bit too fast.

Asbel had to intervene. “Um, Pascal, I think that’s eno—”

“Wait! We haven’t even introduced ourselves!” She grinned, still shaking Richard’s hands. “I’m Pascal! I’m a researcher for the Hunter’s Order! You’re Ris, right? Hu told me about— Oh, Hu is Hubert, Asbel’s little bro! You know him, right? Anyway, I’ve been _dying_ to meet you! You’re, like, a nice guy vampire, right? Why did you decide not to hurt people? Have you been a vampire for long? Are you getting along with Asbel? How is your hair so pretty? Do you put something in it? Was it that nice before you became a vampire?”

“ _Pascal!”_

She turned to Asbel, confused. “Yeah?” She _still_ shook Richard’s hands.

“We… we should go inside. It’s kinda cold out here.” It wasn’t, really, but Asbel was desperate for an excuse.

“Sure, sure!” Finally, she let go of Richard’s hands. “Come on in, Asbel Lhant and Mr. Vampire! Welcome to my lab!”

It took a long moment before Richard composed himself enough to walk inside. Asbel followed him, praying that the worst of the night had passed.

Inside the building, they found themselves in a large hall, decorated in an elegant yet minimalist fashion. Richard regarded the room with clear approval in his eyes, but Asbel knew this was one of the few parts of the building that wasn’t covered in clutter.

“Hey, Mr. Vampire, come see my lab!”

Before Richard had a chance to answer, Pascal grabbed his arm and dragged him away. Asbel had no choice but to hurry along and hope for the best.

Pascal’s lab was a massive room, filled with a massive mess. Most of it was covered in what Asbel believed was a variety of chemical apparatus. One wall, however, was taken up by a huge forge; the area around it was littered with pieces of metal and half-finished blades.

“So, whaddya think? Pretty nifty, right?”

“It’s… certainly something,” Richard replied, eyes wide. “Do you work here alone?”

“There used to be more scientists, but they left. Nowadays it’s just me!”

Asbel chuckled. “They couldn’t stand the mess Pascal always made so they were reallocated to a different laboratory.”

“Heya, Asbel, that’s rude-o! …And kinda true.” Pascal scratched her head, a mischievous grin on her lips. “Anyways, they’re back at HQ now. I’m the only one who works close to the mines.”

“Pascal’s an oddball, but she’s a genius,” Asbel said. Pascal elbowed him playfully at the former, and blushed at the latter. “She’s created amazing adamantine alloys that no one else could’ve thought of. Right, Pascal?”

“Is this a flatter contest? I can play too!” She giggled. “Hey, Mr. Vampire, did you know Asbel is the youngest Wielder of Excalibur _ever_? He’s just like, so totally strong, that the Council gave him Excalibur even though he’s pretty much a baby!”

“I-I’m not a— _Pascal!!”_ Asbel realized Richard was looking at him with admiration in his eyes. His cheeks flushed crimson. “I-It’s no big deal.”

“Strong _and_ humble!” Pascal clapped her hands. “Isn’t he just dreamy, Mr. Vampire?”

Richard chuckled. “He certainly is.”

Asbel was sure he would explode if he blushed any deeper. “Just… Just take the damn sword,” Asbel mumbled, shoving Excalibur in Pascal’s hands.

Richard blinked in confusion. Asbel took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, and explained, “Pascal uses it for research. Every time I report to the Order, I stop here to give her Excalibur for a few days.”

“Yep!” Pascal said, nodding. “As cool as my alloys are, I still haven’t figured out a way to make blades out of pure adamantine. Best I’ve done is 73%, but it takes so much time and effort to forge that most of the Order’s stuff are made with only 60% adamantine.” She sighed. “I wish I could go back in time and see how the Blacksmith made Excalibur!”

“Well, they do say it took months,” Asbel replied.

“I wouldn’t be able to do it even if I had _years_ ,” Pascal grumbled, crossing her arms. “But hey, maybe this will be the time I figure it out, right?” She laughed, as if it was a very good joke.

In a way, it was. Excalibur’s very existence was a wonder, and no one, not even Pascal, would ever be able to replicate it.

“Do you have any bedrooms for us, Pascal?”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re gonna wait here? You usually go to HQ and get Excalibur on your way back.”

“We’re staying,” he muttered. “Take as long as you need on Excalibur. We’re not in a hurry.”

“You sure? I’m gonna need a day or two. Don’t you need to get Mr. Vampire to the Council ASAP?”

Asbel did not answer.

Pascal shrugged. “Well, if you say so. You guys can take one of the spare rooms. Make yourselves at home!” With a grin, she pranced off to a corner of the lab, holding Excalibur close to her chest.

Leaving Pascal to her research, Asbel took Richard on a tour of the building. Most of it was just as novel to him; he had never seen much beyond the entry hall and Pascal’s laboratory. They found rooms, one filled with piles of clutter that reached all the way to the ceiling, and the others empty and abandoned. Only beds remained, but that was all they needed.

The first rays of sunlight were upon the sky when they closed the stiff curtains and fell asleep.

* * *

The next morning - or rather, late afternoon - they woke to a sweet, fruity scent drifting from one corner of the building. After following its trail, they ran into Pascal on the kitchen, eating fresh banana pie and scribbling notes on a piece of paper.

“Good afternoon, sunshine!” she said over a mouthful, sounding more like _goof affernoon_. After pausing to swallow, she continued, “I made banana pie!”

“You can cook?” Asbel’s voice was ridden with disbelief.

“A little. Gotta feed myself, you know.”

Asbel raised an eyebrow, lips curving into a smirk. “And all your recipes have bananas, I bet.”

“Bingo! My specialty.” She gestured to the pie sitting on the table. “Anyway, I made lots, so you two can grab a slice if you want.”

While the pie did smell good, Asbel had to admit that eating Pascal’s cooking didn’t seem wise. Still, the pie smelled _very_ good. And he was hungry. Hoping it would be worth the risk, Asbel cut himself a slice, and glanced at Richard, who shook his head.

“You don’t like bananas?” Pascal sounded as if she would kick him out of the house if he said he didn’t.

“Ri… Ris doesn’t eat,” Asbel cut in.

“Why not?” She raised her eyebrows. “Diet?”

Richard chuckled, but it was strained. When he replied, his voice sounded distant, “No, not a diet. Food simply… no longer appeals to me. Everything tastes bland.”

“Oh… well, that’s because you haven’t tried my banana pie!” Pascal laughed a bit too loudly. “But hey, if you don’t wanna eat, that’s fine. More for me!”

Richard managed another chuckle, and turned to Asbel, smiling in that gentle and sorrowful manner of his. Asbel, chest tight and at a loss for words, looked down at his plate and finally tried the pie.

To his surprise, it was quite good. He ended up going for seconds, which prompted a _‘Only because Mr. Vampire didn’t eat any!’_ from Pascal. She let him cut a big slice, though.

By the time he finished eating, the mood had lightened. Pascal was telling Richard some anecdote related to her research; her account was very enthusiastic, and Richard was very enthralled.

“…And then when I added the sulphur, it literally blew up on my face! I smelled like farts for a week!”

Richard laughed, the strain gone from his voice. He met Asbel’s eyes; both of them smiled.

“So, Asbel,” Pascal interrupted, smirking, “Did you bring any gifts for Sophie this time?”

“I… No. I didn’t have time.” He scratched his cheek, wishing he had remembered when they were in Gralesyde. “How is she doing? Have you seen her lately?”

“Yep!” Pascal beamed. “I stopped by HQ two weeks ago. She’s doing good. Still eating too many crablettes and not letting me touch her, though.”

Asbel laughed. “Same old, then?”

“Same old… wait.” Pascal paused, remembering something. “Oh, yeah! She’s planting a flowerbed by the clinic. Cheria’s idea. Sophie is loving it!”

“Really? I’m happy to hear that.” Asbel smiled, looking down at his empty plate. He really did miss Sophie.

“…Asbel?”

It was Richard’s voice. Asbel turned to find him with a curious look on his face.

“If you don’t mind me asking… who is Sophie?”

“Our friend,” Asbel said, smiling. “She lives at the Order’s headquarters, but she’s not a hunter. I’ll introduce you when we get there!”

Richard hesitated. “Is she…?”

Asbel blinked, waiting.

Richard cleared his throat. “I apologize. From what Miss Pascal said, I thought…”

“Uh? What did I say? Crablettes? Flowers?”

“No, I mean… touching.”

“What about it?” Pascal asked, grinning. “You gonna let me touch you?”

“ _Pascal!”_

“Aw, Asbel, don’t be jealous. I’m sure if you ask nicely Mr. Vampire will let you touch him too.”

Richard reddened slightly. Asbel reddened a _lot_.

“I-I think he meant to ask if Sophie is a vampire,” Asbel finally muttered, face still hot.

Pascal pouted. “No touching, then?”

“I apologize for the misunderstanding,” Richard said a bit too quickly. “But yes, Asbel is correct. Is she a vampire?”

“No,” Asbel answer. “Well, not really. It’s… complicated. I don’t think even the Council could answer that.”

“Asbel found her a few years ago,” Pascal said. “It was in his first solo mission as a hunter, too. Must’ve been fate, right?”

Asbel smiled. “I don’t know about fate, but I felt Sophie’s aura while I was patrolling the outskirts. It was a weird aura, vampiric, but a bit different than anything I had felt. I chased it, and found Sophie.”

“Sophie is _awesome_ ,” Pascal said, clapping her hands. “She has this weird aura, but she’s not a vampire. Doesn’t drink blood, isn’t weakened by the sun, and man, she’s super strong!”

“She’s stronger than most hunters,” Asbel continued. “And her eyes are purple rather than red.”

Pascal nodded. “The Council freaked out when Asbel brought her in. No one had ever seen anyone like her. No records, nothing. She lives at the Order now, and the Council runs tests on her.”

Asbel became silent, his face darkening.

Pascal sighed. “Asbel doesn’t like it. He even tried arguing with the Council.”

“Of course I don’t like it,” Asbel blurted, clenching his fists. “They shouldn’t experiment on a _person_.”

“Sophie says the tests aren’t bad.”

“I still don’t like it,” Asbel muttered.

Pascal dropped the subject, instead talking about the banana curry she would make for dinner. As weird as having bananas in his curry sounded, Asbel couldn’t help but perk up at the idea. They went on to chat about food and other trivialities, until Pascal rose from the table.

“Gotta get back to work,” she said, “I’ll be finished with Excalibur by tomorrow evening!”

Asbel’s stomach sank at Pascal’s words. He wanted to tell her to take longer, a few days, a week. When Pascal left the kitchen, waving them goodbye, Asbel barely had the strength to return the gesture.

Alone, they sat in silence. Asbel felt bleak, but he didn’t want his last day with Richard to go like this. Taking a deep breath, he finally asked, “Wanna go outside? The sun should be setting now.”

Richard simply nodded.

They stepped out of the building into a landscape tinted with shades of orange. The sun hung low in the horizon, half-covered by mountains, casting long shadows over the rocky ground. Richard squinted his eyes slightly, but at this hour, the sun’s rays were too weak to trouble him.

They sat on a couple of rocks. Afar, the miners were returning to their houses, their voices carried by the wind, a tired but cheery low murmur. No one spared a glance at Asbel and Richard. It was like they did not even exist.

The atmosphere was of peace, melancholy, and unreality.

“It’s nice here,” Asbel murmured, the first thing that came to mind, just to break the silence.

“It is,” Richard replied quietly.

The landscape was barren, and the world felt empty, emptier now that the miners were all inside their homes. Asbel’s chest was tight.

“We’ll be heading to the Order’s headquarters tomorrow evening,” Asbel said, his voice a whisper. “It’s only a few hours walk from here.”

Richard did not reply.

Asbel’s chest tightened further, suffocating.

“I’ll miss you,” Asbel murmured, barely audible, gaze locked on the ground.

Richard was silent. Asbel wondered if he had heard him. Time seemed so slow. He struggled to breathe.

“I’ll miss you, Asbel,” finally came the reply.

Richard’s voice was strained.

Time moved too fast.

* * *

The moon was high when they returned inside.

They didn’t see Pascal in the kitchen, or anywhere in the living quarters. She was likely at her lab, slaving away over Excalibur.

There wasn’t much for them to do to pass the time. The region was too barren for a walk to be interesting, they had already spent hours watching the stars, and the mansion seemed to have nothing that could resemble entertainment.

Richard found books, but they were all scientific volumes that he could barely understand. Still, with no other options, Asbel and Richard made a little game out of making up meanings for the figures in the tomes. After a while, however, it got old.

Strangely enough, Asbel wasn’t bored. He was sharing a couch with Richard, not speaking, not doing anything, but he still wished the moment wouldn’t end. Richard’s weight on the cushion beside him was reassuring, and Asbel wished he could move closer, just to touch him, just to know that he was still there.

He wondered why he was being so pessimistic. The Order wouldn’t send him away on a patrol immediately - he would be able to stay a few days at headquarters with Richard. But then again, what if the Council wanted to interrogate Richard round the clock? What if…?

No, Asbel wouldn’t think about that.

He felt Richard shift beside him. He was skimming a book; Asbel didn’t know what this one was about. But he watched Richard’s fingers, long and slender, turn the pages.

Richard paused, his graceful hands resting on the book. He cleared his throat, making Asbel jump. When Asbel looked up at Richard’s face, he was smiling.

“Interested in this book?” Richard asked.

“Um… not really,” Asbel said, blushing. “I kinda just spaced out.”

Richard chuckled, and looked down at the book once more.

“Richard?”

“Hm?”

Asbel hesitated. “How are you feeling?”

Richard turned to him, confused. “Asbel? I am well.”

“I mean…” - he swallowed - “…Do you… need blood?”

Richard’s eyes widened, and Asbel immediately regretted his words. Of course, it was no wonder Richard was surprised - it had been less than a week since Asbel last gave him blood, so the offer was unnecessary. But still… still…

“…Here?” Richard suddenly asked, and Asbel’s heart skipped a beat.

_Was that a yes or a no?_

“I-I just thought it would be better to offer it here than on the road.” Asbel muttered, feeling his face flush.

Richard swallowed. “I meant to ask if it would be appropriate to… here, in the living room…”

“Oh. It… It should be okay. Pascal is… holed up in her lab and…” Part of Asbel wanted to say they should move to the bedroom, but he had no idea how to word it without dying of embarrassment.

Desperate to get over the awkward situation, Asbel removed his jacket and undid the first few buttons on his shirt, pulling it down to uncover his neck. Richard’s eyes were upon him, his lips parted, revealing his long canines. Asbel felt a shiver run down his spine.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Asbel murmured.

Richard flinched as if snapped out of a trance, and then nodded. Gingerly, he scuttled close to Asbel, until their legs touched. Asbel closed his eyes, tilting his head to expose his neck for Richard. The contact between their legs was driving him crazy. Heart thundering, Asbel waited.

He waited, but Richard did not move.

Perplexed, Asbel opened his eyes again. Richard was looking at him, his expression distant, almost sorrowful. When their gazes met, Richard muttered, barely audible, “…the last time…”

And then Richard’s voice faded as if he had spoken without thinking. Something inside Asbel broke, and he opened his mouth to reply— but before he could get a word out, Richard leaned in and sank his teeth into Asbel’s neck.

Asbel’s surprise lasted a fraction of a moment before he lost himself in the familiar, strange pleasure from the bite. He felt Richard’s arms around him, his weight against Asbel. Helpless, Asbel slid on the couch until he was lying against the armrest, Richard over him, pressed against Asbel’s chest, teeth buried into his skin.

Breath hitching, Asbel threw his head back on the armrest, gasping. And suddenly Richard stopped and pulled away, maybe in response to Asbel’s gasp, but no, no, it was too soon, and before Asbel could stop himself his arms were around Richard, pulling him close, unwilling to let go. Richard’s breath was warm against his neck, his lips still touching Asbel’s skin, and without thinking Asbel buried his fingers in Richard’s hair.

And so Richard’s teeth sank into his skin again.

Once more Asbel gasped, but this time Richard did not stop, maybe because Asbel was holding him so tightly, pulling him so closely, that he simply couldn’t. Asbel heard his blood pounding in his ears, felt his body growing cold, but it did not matter because Richard was there, and he was warm, warm. And Asbel knew they were going too far, too close to the edge, but did it matter? It was the last time, Richard had said, the last time. It would be good if it ended like this, Richard by his side, Richard in his arms. That wouldn’t be a bad way to leave this world.

But Richard stopped.

It wasn’t sudden, or maybe it was, but Asbel had been too dazed to notice. In fact, he couldn’t tell exactly when Richard had stopped. One moment he had been drinking Asbel’s blood, and the next he wasn’t, but his lips were still pressed against Asbel’s neck, his teeth still touching Asbel’s skin.

They were still so close.

_…The last time…_

If it really… If it really was… then…

Asbel shifted slowly, his hand still buried in Richard’s hair. It was so soft; Asbel could spend the rest of his life just running his fingers through it. He felt Richard sigh against his neck, lips brushing Asbel’s skin as he shifted to settle in his arms.

_The last time._

If they could stay like this… If Asbel could…

He opened his eyes, blinking as his vision came back into focus.

…And then saw Pascal standing by the door, eyes wide and mouth agape.

The sound Asbel made was something between a scream, a cuss, and Pascal’s name. Richard jumped in surprise, nearly falling off the couch, and then almost falling again as he tried to untangle his limbs from Asbel’s. Once Richard was off him, Asbel scrambled to sit, and then scrambled some more to button his half-open shirt.

“P-Pascal, what are you— H-How long have you been—?” Asbel’s face was so hot with embarrassment he thought he would faint.

“Weeeell…” Pascal scratched the back of her head, smiling awkwardly. “I was back in my lab working, y’know, minding my own business… When all of a sudden, boom! I felt Mr. Vampire’s aura grow stronger! And that’s alarming, y’know, so I ran here without really thinking, and… well… when I saw you guys all mwah mwah mwah hanky-panky, I was so shocked I couldn’t move!”

Asbel’s jaw dropped. “W-We… we were not…! I-I was just giving him blood!”

“Uh… Right. That’s totally not what it looked like, though.”

“But that’s all it was! D-Don’t get any funny ideas!”

Pascal smirked. “I didn’t know you needed foreplay to give blood to vampires. I wonder if I had come a minute later I would’ve another kind of su—”

_“Pascal!!”_

“Back to the lab!” Giggling, she skipped out of the room.

Once Pascal was gone, Asbel sighed. By his side, Richard was downcast, gaze on the floor and shoulders slumped.

“I’m really sorry for that,” Asbel muttered. “Pascal loves making fun of me, so, um… please don’t let it bother you.”

Richard straightened, putting on a smile. “It’s fine, Asbel,” he said, not meeting his eyes, “You were only giving me your blood, after all.”

For some reason, Richard’s smile was bittersweet.

* * *

On the next afternoon, Pascal returned Excalibur.

The blade was heavy in Asbel’s hands, heavier than he remembered. And heavier still was the pat Pascal gave him on the back, her smile strange, as if she knew. Knew what? Asbel himself was unsure.

When the sun began setting, Pascal led them to the door. Asbel’s backpack was light, for there was no need to bring any supplies; the Order was only a couple hours away. The night would still be young by the time they arrived.

Pascal told Richard she would come visit him at the Order’s Headquarters, and asked Asbel to say hi to Sophie and Cheria. Once their goodbyes were over, Pascal stood by the door, waving energetically as they walked away.

Once more the landscape was orange-tinted, reminding Asbel of the previous day. Now, the atmosphere was even heavier with melancholy, yet as Asbel walked over pebbles and dry ground, he could not find the peace he had felt then.

His heart was heavier than Excalibur.

They walked for a few minutes, when Richard suddenly stopped. Asbel turned to him in confusion, but Richard was silent, glancing down at one of his fists. The setting sun was bright on his hair, shining like strands of gold.

When Richard looked up and met Asbel’s gaze, his scarlet eyes shone even brighter.

“Asbel… May we have a moment?”

“We’re having one,” Asbel replied, a small smile on his lips. “It’s just the two of us, so we can have as many moments as you like.”

Richard’s expression softened. “I would like all the moments in the world, but for now, I believe we should only have one.”

He lifted his closed hand, the one he had been staring at before, and slowly opened it. On his palm, glistening in the sun, was a golden ring set with a large green stone, secured in a golden chain. The stone seemed to have a light of its own; it was unlike anything Asbel had ever seen.

“This is… a family heirloom,” Richard began, tone soft. “It’s the only belonging I was able to keep from the time I was human. I… I would like you to have it.”

Asbel’s eyes widened; the ring looked impossibly valuable. “You’re giving it to me?” he asked in disbelief. “Why?”

“As repayment. For everything you have done for me. Sparing my life— No, _saving_ my life, and taking me with you, and showing me a world I had never seen before. This ring is nothing compared to what you have given me, but it’s the least I can offer you.”

The light inside the green stone seemed to twirl. There was only one answer Asbel could give.

“No. I can’t take it.”

Richard almost dropped the ring in surprise. “What?”

“I can’t take it, Richard. Please keep your ring.”

Richard’s expression contorted in pain. “But there’s nothing I can do with it. It has no use to me, Asbel. Please, I want you to have it. Please.”

Asbel shook his head. “No, Richard. I don’t… I don’t want any repayment. I don’t _need_ any repayment. I didn’t do all I did because I expected something in return.”

Richard’s fingers trembled around the ring. “Asbel, I’m… I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to imply—”

“That’s not it! It’s just… Richard, saving you… being with you… I also saw the world like I had never seen it before. I… I loved traveling with you. Becoming your friend is worth much more than any stupid ring.”

Richard looked down at the ring, and muttered, barely audible, “I’m… your friend?”

Asbel swallowed. Had he overstepped a boundary, calling Richard a friend? Richard had never described himself as one, Asbel realized. “I… I think of you as a friend, at least,” he said, chest tight. “You’re… you’re really important to me, Richard.” Now he was saying too much, but he could not stop himself.

Richard looked up again, his eyes wide as they met Asbel’s. “Asbel, you’re…” He pressed his lips shut, as if choking back on his words. Then, taking a deep breath, he continued, “I’m sorry. I’ve never had anyone I could call a friend before, so…” he paused, taking another deep breath. “You’re my friend, Asbel. I mean— I think of you as one. But then again, if you also… then I suppose it’s safe to say…” Richard sighed. “I am making this awkward, aren’t I?”

Asbel broke out in laughter.

Richard’s eyes widened, his face growing red, but Asbel was laughing so hard he could not will himself to stop. His stomach was hurting and his vision was blurry with tears; it took him a good minute before he managed to catch his breath. Wiping his eyes, Asbel finally said, “Sorry, Richard, it was just too funny. Of course I’m your friend. And you’re mine.”

Asbel smiled. Richard’s eyes were still wide, and it took him a moment to compose himself. But then, he beamed.

“Thank you, Asbel,” he said, still smiling, and took one of Asbel’s hands.

And then, to Asbel’s surprise, Richard placed the ring on his palm.

“Richard, I just said—”

“It’s not repayment,” Richard cut in, “But a gift from a friend. As a ‘thank you’, and… as something that you can remember me by. I know it may be a long time before we see each other again, so… I would be happy if I knew you had it with you, Asbel.” He smiled, so gentle, so kind.

Asbel’s heart skipped a beat. “Richard… Thank you. Thank you so much.” He closed his fingers around the ring, the metal solid, reassuring. His lips curved in a smile. “I will treasure it.”

The Hunter’s Order was only a few hours away, but for now, Asbel’s fear was gone.


	8. The Council of the Hunter’s Order

The gates of the Order were a dark silhouette against the starry sky.

They were gates without a wall - a simple, tall arc that announced one had arrived at the most powerful organization in the kingdom. From its highest point hung a massive metal disc, inlaid with intricate carvings that depicted a shining sword pointed towards the heavens, the ancient symbol of the Hunter’s Order.

It shone beneath the moonlight, ominous.

“It’s huge,” Richard muttered, gazing up at the gleaming emblem. “How was it even made?”

“I don’t know,” Asbel replied. “But they say it was made by the same person who forged Excalibur.”

There were no guards by the Order’s gates. It needed none, just like it needed no walls. The Order would never be attacked; the Order would never be besieged. It stood apart from the petty squabbles of common men, refusing to meddle in any form of politics. To the Order, all the mattered was eliminating vampires. That was the purpose of its founding, and the sole reason for its existence.

Mere leagues away from the Order stood Barona, the noble capital of Windor. The Order, however, did not answer to the crown. It answered to no one.

Among hunters, the will of the Council was absolute.

Beyond the gates, the first buildings of the Order rose, shrouded in darkness. Everything was completely still, not a single soul on the streets. The only sound breaking the silence was the distant song of cicadas.

“Is it always like this?” Richard asked, his voice a murmur. “So… quiet.”

“No. No… it’s not.”

The silence was unnatural. It was true that the Order was never as lively as a city - despite being as large as one - but it was also never deserted. Not like this.

And what made it even more bizarre was that Asbel had expected the very opposite: hundreds of hunters crowding the streets to see a vampire surrendering himself to the Order. A historical event, the first in the records. Yet no one was there.

Something was wrong.

“Stay close,” Asbel whispered.

By his side, Richard froze. “Asbel?”

Asbel exhaled, trying to calm himself. The last thing he wanted to do was to make Richard panic. “I don’t know what is going on, but this isn’t normal. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but… I think we should be careful.”

Richard only nodded, his eyes very wide.

They ventured deeper into the Order. The pattern was the same, deserted streets and dark buildings and deathly silence. A knot formed in Asbel’s stomach, and the further they traveled, the tighter it became. The Order was huge, almost a city in itself, and the Council stood at its center. They still had a long way to go.

The stillness was overwhelming, the air so heavy Asbel struggled to breathe. The far-away cicadas still sang, oblivious to it all, their music almost deafening amidst the silence. Asbel wanted to reach out and take Richard’s hand, to hold it tightly between his fingers. But he couldn’t, just like he couldn’t turn back and escape with Richard to someplace far away.

Footsteps broke the silence.

Asbel and Richard froze, theirs hands darting to the hilt of their swords. The footsteps grew closer. Hurried. Coming right towards them. Whoever it was—

“Asbel!”

_…What?_

And the speaker came into view, shoulder-length pink hair fluttering in the wind as she drew to a stop.

Asbel’s eyes widened. “Cheria?!”

The newcomer’s lips curved into a smile, a stark contrast with the anxiety lingering in her eyes. “You’re finally here.”

“I… I am,” he blurted, hardly believing the sight before his eyes. “What the hell is going on?”

“Geez, that’s the way you greet me after so long?” Her playful tone belied the nervous tremble in her voice. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to…”

She glanced at Richard. The smile on her lips wavered at the sight of his red eyes.

“…Ris,” Asbel muttered. Lying to Cheria left a strange taste in his mouth. “His name is Ris.”

“Nice to meet you, Ris,” she said, bowing her head in greeting. “I’m Cheria, a healer of the Order.”

It took Richard a moment to compose himself. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cheria.”

Cheria’s smile returned. “You two traveled far. I bet you’re tired. You should probably—”

“Cheria,” interrupted Asbel, “Now that I’ve introduced you two, can you please tell me what’s going on? Where’s everyone?”

“Oh,” she muttered, and laughed awkwardly. “It’s… no big deal. The Council just issued a curfew.”

“They did _what_?” The Council had never issued anything of the sort!

Cheria looked away, fiddling with the hem of her skirt. “They commanded all hunters to not go outside for tonight.”

“But you’re here.”

“I… am not a hunter,” she muttered, cheeks flushed like a child caught doing mischief. “Not exactly.”

Asbel raised a single eyebrow.

“Okay, okay! I know the Council wanted _everyone_ to stay inside. But I… I was worried. I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Her gaze fell. Asbel stepped forward, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. “Hey, it’s fine. I’m okay. You can stop worrying, alright?”

Cheria smiled weakly. “Thanks, Asbel. I… I should probably get going.” She took a step back, letting his hands fall from her shoulders.

Asbel was ready to let her walk away, but he suddenly remembered something. “Wait,” he blurted. “Do you… do you know if Sophie is awake?”

Cheria’s eyes widened at the unexpected question. “Sophie? Yes, she is. She was working on the garden by the clinic when I left. Since the clinic is far from the main street, I thought it would be okay to let her stay outside. Why?”

“I wanted to introduce her to… to Ris.”

Surprise washed over Cheria’s face, but a moment later, her expression softened. “That sounds wonderful. Sophie will love to make a new friend.” She looked at Richard and smiled. This time, she was able to hold his gaze. “I hope you two get along.”

“Thank you,” Richard said warmly, returning her smile. “So do I.”

“Cheria,” Asbel said, “Are you headed back to the clinic? Do you want to come with us?”

She hesitated. “I… I really shouldn’t. If I am seen with you after the Council ordered us to stay away…”

“I understand,” Asbel cut in, smiling. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to hang out before I have to leave on another mission.”

“Of course,” Cheria replied, her tone lacking the certainty of her words. “See you, Asbel, Ris.”

“It was a pleasure, Cheria,” Richard said, his smile as faint as Cheria’s own.

Asbel waved goodbye, and they walked past Cheria, towards the side street that would take them to the clinic. They had only moved a few feet when Cheria called out behind them:

“Asbel, wait!”

He turned. Cheria’s hands tightened on the fabric of her skirt.

“Please… take care,” she whispered.

And then left.

Something twisted inside Asbel. But he had no time to dwell on it.

“Let’s go,” he muttered, turning to Richard, “We will meet Sophie.”

* * *

The clinic was as shrouded in darkness as the rest of the Order. It stood atop a small hill, far from other buildings. Well-trimmed grass surrounded it, with the exception of one square patch of flowers, swaying in the evening breeze.

By the flowers was Sophie.

Kneeling on the grass and bathed by the pale glow of moonlight, she looked ethereal. In the darkness, the flowers were tinted shades of gray; even Sophie’s vibrant purple hair looked faded in the night. Upon hearing their approach, she lifted her downcast head, her large eyes widening when she saw them.

“Asbel!”

Sophie stood and ran, ran until she leapt at Asbel and wrapped her arms around him, knocking the air out of his lungs. Asbel laughed, returning Sophie’s tight embrace, relief flooding over him to see her alive and well.

“I missed you,” Sophie said, still clinging on to Asbel. “When Hubert said you would be coming back early, I thought it would be… earlier.”

“I missed you, too. Sorry for taking so long.” He patted her head gently. The color in her hair seemed more vivid now, but Asbel knew he was only imagining it. The night was still too dark.

Sophie pulled away, and glanced at Richard. “Who is he?”

Asbel smiled. “He’s someone I wanted to introduce to you, Sophie. His name…”

Asbel choked back on the words. He had already lied to Cheria, his childhood friend; Hubert, his own brother; and Pascal, his… weird acquaintance. But the thought of lying to Sophie, of all people, made his stomach twist.

He tried again. “His name is… um…” His voice faded. He couldn’t go on.

Sophie tilted her head. “His name is… ‘um’? That’s a funny name.” She turned to Richard. “Nice to meet you… um.”

“N-No!” Asbel blurted, waving his hands. “That’s not— Sophie, can you give us a moment?”

He grabbed Richard’s arm and led him a few feet away from Sophie, leaving her behind with a perplexed look on her face.

“I’m sorry, Richard,” Asbel whispered, hoping Sophie couldn’t hear. “It’s just… I have a hard time lying to her.”

“Asbel…” Richard’s tone was gentle. “Please, don’t apologize. I am the one who is sorry to make you lie. Forgive me.” His gaze fell. “Would it be better if I introduced myself instead? That way, you won’t have to say it.”

“I… well…” he swallowed. “Would it be okay if I told her your real name? She will keep it a secret. I promise you.”

Richard hesitated. He glanced back at Sophie, who had wandered back to her flowerbed, and now sat on the grass again, hugging her knees. She looked at the swaying flowers with a mesmerized expression on her face, oblivious to the rest of the world.

Asbel’s chest tightened. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I’m being selfish. You don’t need to tell her your real—”

“No,” Richard spoke suddenly. “We can tell her, Asbel.”

Asbel’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

“I am.” And Richard smiled, his expression so sincere it melted all the fear in Asbel’s chest.

They walked back to the flowerbed, where Sophie waited. She glanced from under her heavy bangs as they approached, not moving from where she sat.

“Sophie,” Asbel said, beaming, “This is Richard.”

Sophie stood. She looked up at Richard, blinking. “Richard,” she repeated. “Are you Asbel’s friend?”

“I am,” Richard replied, sounding so happy it made Asbel’s heart flutter.

And that was all it took for Sophie’s blank expression to shift into excitement. “Then you must be my friend, too!”

Without warning, she stepped forward, taking both of Richard’s hands into hers. Richard’s eyes widened in surprise, but he did not pull away.

Sophie smiled, holding Richard’s hands tightly. “Do you like flowers, Richard?”

Richard chuckled, his surprise turning into amusement. “I do, Sophie.”

Her eyes shone with excitement. “What’s your favorite flower?”

“I am quite fond of roses.”

“Oh,” she muttered, the glimmer in her eyes dwindling a little. “I haven’t planted any roses yet.”

“Sophie… it’s fine. Please don’t worry.” Richard gave her hands a soft squeeze. “Roses may be my favorite, but I do love every other flower. Your garden is stunning in its own right.”

Sophie brightened again. “I will plant roses for you, Richard! Oh… and thank you for the compliment.” She smiled. “Cheria told me I should say that whenever someone says that something I’ve made is nice.”

“You’re very welcome, Sophie,” Richard replied, returning her smile. “I look forward to seeing your roses.”

“Are you going to live in the Order, too?” Sophie asked, letting go of his hands. “Will you stay here with me?”

Richard’s smiled faded. Silence dragged on before he finally answered, “I hope I will, Sophie.”

“Really? I’m so happy!” she blurted. The somberness of Richard’s tone seemed to have gone right over her head. “Do you like baking? You should come bake with me and Cheria. What’s your favorite food? Mine are crablettes! Do you like crablettes? You have to like them.”

“S-Sophie,” Asbel cut in, “Please, only one question at a time. You’re going to overwhelm Richard.” He glanced at Richard, and found him covering a chuckle. Well, at least he wasn’t too overwhelmed. Asbel turned to Sophie again, “And please don’t be like that about crablettes. Not everyone has to like them.”

Sophie’s face darkened. “I don’t trust people who don’t like crablettes.”

Her frigid tone made Asbel’s jaw drop.

“Just kidding,” Sophie added with an innocent smile.

Asbel’s jaw dropped further, and Richard burst into laughter.

“W-Where did you learn to joke like that?” Asbel stammered, his cheeks flushing. Richard was still laughing.

“That funny grandpa with the beard taught me. He comes by my garden sometimes.”

“Oh. Of _course_.” He was the only one person in the Order who would think to teach Sophie anything of the sort. “Anyway, don’t listen to him. He’s a bad influence, and— R-Richard, can you stop laughing?”

“I apologize,” Richard said between chuckles. “That was the funniest scene I have witnessed in a long time.”

Asbel’s face reddened further. Something about hearing Richard’s laughter made his heart beat faster. “Y-You don’t need to apologize,” he muttered, his cheeks a little too warm. “Oh, this reminds me,” he began, eager to change the subject, “There’s something we need to tell you, Sophie.”

Sophie looked up, blinking slowly.

“We want you to keep a secret,” Asbel continued. “Just between the three of us.”

“A secret?”

Asbel nodded. “You can’t tell Richard’s name to anyone. If anyone asks what his name is, say it’s Ris. Understand?”

“I… I understand.” Despite her words, she looked confused.

“Sophie,” Richard said, the hint of a tremble in his voice. “I am deeply sorry to ask this of you. But for now, it is very important that no one hears you call me ‘Richard’. Whenever others are around us - or even when there is any risk someone might suddenly appear and overhear us - please call me Ris.”

For a long moment, Sophie held Richard’s anxious gaze. And then, suddenly, she took one of Richard’s hands in both of her own.

“I promise, Richard,” she said solemnly, her small hands wrapped tight around Richard’s. “I promise I won’t let anyone find out your name.”

And the anxiety disappeared from Richard’s face, replaced with warmth. “Thank you, Sophie.” He placed his free hand on top of hers. “Thank you.”

Sophie smiled, giving Richard’s hand a squeeze. “Asbel taught me promises are important, so I never break promises.” She paused, glancing over at Asbel without letting go of Richard’s hand. “Asbel, you should do it too. You should promise you won’t let anyone find out Richard’s name.”

“M-Me?” Of course he wouldn’t let anyone find out Richard’s name! After everything they had been through together, the last thing Asbel would do was betray his trust. “Okay. I promise.”

“Not like that!” Sophie exclaimed, almost making Asbel jump. “You have to put your hand on top of ours. We have to promise together.”

Sophie’s expression was as firm and resolute as her voice; without thinking twice, Asbel placed his hand on top of Richard’s. His skin was warm, still warm from when he drank Asbel’s blood on the previous night.

“You should put your other hand under mine,” Sophie said, “Like… a hand sandwich.”

Chuckling, Asbel did as he was told.

“Now all our hands are together,” Sophie declared. “So we can promise to keep Richard’s name a secret. Just between us.”

“I promise to keep Richard’s name a secret,” Asbel repeated, flashing a smile at Richard.

Richard returned it. “Thank you, both of you. I… I truly appreciate it.” He glanced down at their intertwined hands, and his expression turned melancholic. “I should make a promise, as well. I… I promise that, one day, I will tell you why I had to keep my name hidden.”

For a long moment they stood, in silence and still, holding each other’s hands. And finally, Sophie spoke in a cheerful tone, “We all will keep our promises!”

Richard’s smile returned, Asbel chuckled, and finally, they freed their hands.

And at that very moment, while the mood was buoyant and the atmosphere optimistic, that a voice bellowed from the distance—

“Asbel Lhant!”

The three of them froze.

From afar, sprouting from the darkness, four hunters came. Their medallions hung from their necks, shimmering brighter than silver. Asbel’s stomach tied into a knot; hunters rarely wore their badges in plain sight while in the Order.

They only did so when in direct service of the Council.

Asbel couldn’t move or speak as he watched the hunters approach. Beside him, Richard’s face paled. Sophie shuffled closer, clinging to Asbel’s arm, both protective and afraid.

“Asbel Lhant,” the same voice spoke as the hunters finally reached them. The four of them stood side by side, forming a wall, as if to prevent them from escaping. “The Council has been waiting for you.”

The graveness in the hunter’s voice made his disapproval clear. He glanced at Sophie, eyes narrowing. Sophie’s grip on Asbel’s arm tightened.

“I’m sorry,” Asbel said, struggling to keep his voice steady. “I will be meeting them right away.”

“This is no longer needed,” the hunter replied. “We will escort the vampire ourselves.”

He spoke without even glancing at Richard. None of the hunters acknowledged his presence.

“The Council will want to hear what I have to say,” Asbel protested. He wouldn’t make Richard face this alone. “You can escort us, but I should be coming with you.”

“No.” The hunter’s voice was colder than steel. “The Council has dismissed you for tonight. They will interrogate you in the morning.”

_Interrogate?_

“I’m not tired,” Asbel insisted. “I don’t need to rest. I can—”

“Asbel Lhant.” So sharp, biting. “A hunter should _never_ question the Council. You were dismissed. You shall head to your quarters. You will not come with us.”

Asbel opened his mouth, but before he had the chance to say a word, two of the hunters stepped forward, moving to stand behind and in front of Richard. Richard’s eyes widened, and he looked at Asbel, face pale with terror.

“Move,” the lead hunter said, and the one standing behind Richard pushed him forward, forcing him to walk.

That was it. Richard was leaving. And Asbel could do nothing. Nothing, nothing but watch Richard be taken away. Nothing but feel cold from head to toe, so, so cold he trembled.

Richard gave him one final glance, eyes filled with longing, and something about his expression spoke a farewell.

Then, he was gone. Lost among the shadows of the night.

Empty. Asbel felt empty, like a part of him had been yanked away. He tried to tell himself he had no reason to worry - that it wouldn’t make sense for the Council to hurt Richard. But it did nothing to chase the emptiness and the coldness away.

“Asbel,” Sophie’s tiny voice spoke, her hands tightening around Asbel’s arm, “Asbel, you’re shaking.”

It took all his willpower to make himself stop.

“What will happen to Richard?” Sophie asked, not letting go.

Asbel looked towards the street the hunters had disappeared into. His medallion was heavy on his neck, heavier than it ever had been.

“I don’t know.”

* * *

At the heart of the Hunter’s Order stood one of the most imposing buildings Richard had ever seen.

The Council’s Tower, as he overheard one of the hunters call it. To Richard’s eyes, it was more of a palace than a mere tower; a somber, austere palace. It lacked the delicate details of Barona Castle, the intricate decorations and rich colors. But the pillars at its entrance were the tallest he had seen, the ceilings inside the building higher than those of any cathedral.

It was not a place of beauty, but of power.

His steps echoed through the vast halls of the Council’s Tower. The four hunters escorting him walked in a circle around him, keeping a fair distance. They had not touched him since the first push to make him move. They avoided even looking at him.

He already missed Asbel.

The closer he moved towards the fabled Council, the more dread filled his stomach. He could not picture a scenario in which he would be allowed the smallest ounce of freedom. In Richard’s mind, all he saw was a deep, dark basement, where he would be kept in a cell, interrogated, and experimented upon. That, or a swift execution.

But the one thing he knew was that none of these hunters saw him as anything other than a monster. Only Asbel… only Asbel was capable of showing him kindness.

The hunters around him drew to a halt. Yanked from his musings, Richard realized what stood before them.

Tall metal doors, even larger than the ones that led to Barona’s throne room. They had no adornments, all smooth gleaming silver - maybe even adamantine - with the exception of their center. There, carved into the metal, was the unmistakable symbol of the Hunter’s Order. The blazing sword pointed towards the sky.

Richard needed to hear no proclamation. He knew what lay beyond those doors.

They made him wait. Maybe the Council needed preparations, or it was petty revenge for his belatedness. With every passing second, the doors seemed to grow taller, colder, more imposing. He began to feel sick.

And then, without warning, the massive doors opened.

There were no rituals, no ceremonies. No eulogy to announce the Council. He was simply ushered inside, and with a loud metal clank, the doors closed behind him.

Even his vampiric eyes could not see more than a few feet around him. Bright candles illuminated the area where he stood, but the rest of the room was shrouded in darkness, and the glare of the candlelight prevented him from seeing more than vague shapes and forms. What little he could make out pointed to this being a large audience room, with a ceiling so tall Richard could not tell where it ended. A semi-circular dais surrounded him, and upon it sat hooded figures, their faces veiled by shadows.

“You stand before the Council.”

The melodious voice rang in the room, reverberating through the tall chamber. The speaker waited, letting her voice echo until it faded.

“I am the Voice of the Council,” she finally said. “I am the Matriarch of the Hunter’s Order.”

Richard realized the voice came from the figure at the center of the dais. Her face was as thoroughly hidden as the others, but he swore he felt her eyes piercing right through him.

“To whom do I speak?” she asked, her question carrying the weight of a command.

A chill ran down Richard’s spine. “I am Ris.”

Silence. His false name still echoed in the room.

“So I was told,” she finally replied. “Ris.”

Richard’s breath caught in his throat. She knew he was lying; he was sure of it.

“I have heard much about you from one of our hunters,” she continued. “Hubert. I believe you have met him.”

“Yes,” Richard replied. He was afraid that if he spoke any more, his voice would begin to waver.

“Of course, there is much Hubert did not know. Much that you did not inform him.”

It took all of Richard’s strength to stand straight despite his urge to collapse.

“We would like to learn everything. About the vampires who can hide their auras, and about why they seek to capture you. However…” she paused, letting her voice echo once more. “We know you have traveled far.”

Richard tried not to bite his lip. Why was she taking so long? Why beat around the bush?

“Prior to your arrival, the Council has long been in deliberation. You are a vampire - one of the creatures we have vowed to destroy. Yet you came to us of our own accord, willing to reveal what you know. And you came accompanied by Asbel Lhant, Wielder of Excalibur. We have weighted those two sides, and reached a decision.”

And then, she stood. When she next spoke, her voice had acquired new strength, booming in the room:

“The Council is the will of the Order, and we stand as one. The Matriarch is the voice of the Council, and for all of us I speak.” She paused, letting the ceremonial words echo in the grandiose chamber. “From this day forth, the Order extends its trust and hospitality to the vampire standing before us. He is declared unlike his kind, and an ally of humanity. Within the Order he shall be protected, and never kept as a prisoner.

“As proof of our words, we spare you from an interrogation tonight. You shall be allowed to rest from your strenuous journey, and asked to come to us when you are ready to reveal what you know. In return, we ask for you unbounded cooperation during the trials that lie ahead, and your aid in investigating this mysterious group of vampires you met along with Asbel Lhant.”

Once more she paused, and waited until the echoes of her voice faded.

“And so the Council has spoken,” she finally declared, and returned to her seat.

Silence fell upon the room. But in Richard’s ears, his heart thundered.

Impossible.

Richard could not believe the Matriarch’s words. He could not believe he was going to be accepted, trusted, spared. That he would receive respect, and not cruelty.

That he would _live_.

Immense relief flooded his chest, tears welling in his eyes. He blinked them back, suppressed the urge to weep with joy. He would live! He would live, and he would be free. And… and he would be with Asbel. Above all, he would be with _Asbel_.

“Thank you,” he said, voice brimming with elation.

As if in response to his thanks, a member of the Council moved, and in the next moment, the huge metal doors behind Richard opened. Light from the well-illuminated hall poured in, almost blinding— and the four hunters that had escorted him before stepped inside, leading Richard back to the hall. As soon as he was out of the audience chamber, the doors closed behind him, and the Council was gone.

The hunters still avoided meeting his eyes, but Richard’s happiness was so vast he could not bring himself to care. His mind drifted as they led him through the Council’s Tower, up a few flights of stairs and into a long, wide corridor. Identical doors lined each side of the corridor; one of the hunters escorting him approached one of the doors, and producing a key from his pocket, unlocked it. Without a word, he ushered Richard inside.

When Richard heard the door lock behind him, he felt a surge of panic— but it faded when he realized the place he was in was a bedroom.

It had a single bed, a nightstand, a wardrobe, a desk, and a chair. Everything was made of plain unadorned wood, but upon close inspection, Richard realized the grain was of the finest quality, sturdy and smooth. The mattress was comfortable, not too soft but too firm. He wondered if this was where he would be living from then on; if that was the case, it wouldn’t be too bad.

Heart still racing, Richard sat on the bed, his mind going over everything that had happened tonight.

The Council. He would need to face them again, sooner or later. Would he have any choice but to tell them the truth? Would they believe him? Richard closed his eyes. Not now. He wouldn’t think about it now.

The Order. From now on, his home. What would it be like to live here? Would the hunters still avoid his eyes, regard him with fear and distrust? The idea troubled him. But at least he had Sophie; he thought she could accept him. Maybe Cheria, too. She had seemed a little afraid of him, but she had done her best to treat him like a person. With time, maybe they could also be friends.

And… Asbel.

Asbel.

Richard’s chest ached. He already missed Asbel so, so much. Despite everything, the time Richard spent with him had been the best in his life. How he wished he could see Asbel now, tell him about how the meeting with the Council went, share the relief and happiness about its outcome. But instead he was locked inside this room, alone.

So much for not being a prisoner.

Richard closed his eyes and focused, trying to find Asbel’s aura. But no matter how much he concentrated, it was impossible to pinpoint Asbel amidst this sea of hunters. Even that small comfort was beyond his reach.

He was lonely. Even lonelier than before he had met Asbel.

Tomorrow… Tomorrow, hopefully, they would be together. And the day after, for however long they could. Eventually, he knew, Asbel would need to leave, to do his job as a hunter. But until then, Richard would treasure every moment he could have by his side.

* * *

Asbel’s room had never been colder or emptier.

After parting ways with Sophie, he had gone to his quarters, and done nothing but lay in bed, looking at the ceiling. His mind replayed that last glance Richard had given him, the one that seemed to speak farewell. Every time that moment looped in his brain it felt like a knife being plunged deeper into his chest.

He had been closely monitoring Richard’s aura, paying the utmost attention to any changes it underwent. Richard was still in the Council’s Tower, and his aura had not wavered, meaning he had not suffered any grave injury. But Asbel could take no comfort in this. If Richard’s aura began to fade, it would likely be too late by the time Asbel arrived.

Asbel shifted, closing his eyes. No. No, the Council had no reason to hurt Richard, much less kill him. He had to stop worrying. He had to…

The door to his room suddenly opened, and Asbel jumped out of bed, heart pounding with alarm.

But it was only Hubert.

Asbel breathed a sigh of relief. “Geez, Hubert. I just came back from the outskirts. You could’ve knocked.”

Hubert raised an eyebrow. “And you could’ve locked your door.” Without waiting for an invitation, he walked in, closing the door behind him. He cleared his throat. “Have you already spoken to the Council?”

A chill ran down Asbel’s spine. “No. They want to see me tomorrow.”

“I see.” Hubert looked around, expression unreadable. “Have you been in your room since you arrived?”

“I stopped by to see Sophie before. I’ve been here for an hour or so.”

Hubert’s lips pursed in distaste as his eyes scanned the room once more. “An hour, and you’ve already made a mess of the place.”

Asbel had no energy to retort. He shuffled back to his bed, and sat on it, suppressing the urge to just lie down.

Hubert frowned. “You look miserable.”

Asbel did not reply.

“What happened?”

Asbel sighed. “I’m… I’m just worried.”

“Worried? About what?” Hubert looked puzzled - but suddenly, it dawned on him. “Oh, I refuse to believe it. You’re worried about the vampire.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “You of all people should know that nothing good can come out of it. Have you really gotten so attached to that _creature_?”

That _creature._

Rage filled Asbel. Enough rage to replace his gloom, enough rage to make him bolt out of bed and grab Hubert’s collar. Hubert’s eyes widened, but before he had any chance to react, Asbel yelled, “Don’t _ever_ talk as if he’s some sort of beast!” His grip on Hubert’s collar tightened. “His name is _Richard!_ ”

And Hubert’s outraged expression suddenly shifted into shock. “His name is _what_?”

Asbel froze, finally realizing what he had said. Oh, _damn_. Damn, damn, damn. Now he really messed up!

“I-I mean… Ris,” Asbel stammered, letting go of Hubert’s collar. “His name is Ris.”

“You lied to me about his name?” Hubert blurted, face reddening with fury. “No— _He_ lied?”

Asbel waved his hands frantically. “N-No! Ris is just… a nickname!”

Hubert narrowed his eyes. “Right. A nickname. For _Richard._ Where the hell does the ‘s’ come from, then?”

“It comes from… from…” Asbel’s brain struggled to come up with something. “…From his last name! It’s… Smith. Richard Smith. Ris. See?”

Hubert slapped his own forehead loud enough to make a noise. “You are a _terrible_ liar, Brother.”

Asbel’s face reddened. He really, really was.

“So his real name is Richard,” Hubert muttered, half to himself. “And he wanted to hide it? Hmm…” His brow furrowed. “No… It couldn’t be.”

That piqued Asbel’s interest. “Couldn’t be what?”

Hubert looked up, meeting Asbel’s eyes. His expression was serious, even concerned. “It’s unlikely, but… I was thinking about the crown prince.”

Asbel blinked. “Okay. What about the crown prince?”

Hubert snorted. “You really live in your own little world, don’t you? And you used to be so into those things when you were a kid. Did you just wipe your memory out of everything?”

“I wasn’t that into it,” Asbel muttered, cheeks red with embarrassment. “Anyway, I’m just really focused on Order stuff, okay? I don’t need to know much about politics.”

“There’s a difference between not knowing much, and not knowing _anything_.” Despite his tone, Hubert looked amused.

Asbel only reddened further. “Okay, okay, sorry for not knowing _anything_! Now can you please tell me what you were talking about?”

Hubert took a deep breath. “Over a year ago, the crown prince of Windor went missing. He had been traveling from Barona to Gralesyde, and his entire entourage disappeared with him. No trace of them was ever found.”

Asbel tensed. No. Hubert couldn’t mean…

“The prince’s name was Richard.”

Asbel froze.

No. No. It was ridiculous. Completely absurd! Richard wasn’t an uncommon name. Many people in the kingdom had to be called that. It was obviously a coincidence! Nothing. It meant nothing.

It meant nothing. It was impossible. And yet the harder Asbel tried to tell himself that, the more he remembered.

He remembered the clothes Richard had been wearing when they met, once-luxurious silks adorned with the most delicate of laces, but worn and faded with time.

He remembered Richard’s fascination with the common people, his excitement to visit even the smallest of towns, his wish to learn everything there was to know about the kingdom.

He remembered the way Richard spoke, the way he moved, the way he behaved, everything so elegant, so refined, more than worthy of any prince.

And above all, he remembered how utterly shocked and desolate Richard had been after hearing about the King’s death.

It was impossible. But it had to be.

All along, Asbel had been traveling with the crown prince of his country, and yet had been too dense to realize it.

He felt like a fool. How could he have failed to notice? Looking back on it, it was so _obvious_. But Asbel never considered anything like it. Richard was just… Richard.

And worst of all— even now, knowing who he was… Asbel could not think of Richard any differently.

He still was just Richard.

“What are you smiling like an idiot for?”

Asbel jumped at the sound of Hubert’s voice, and flushed when he realized he _had_ been smiling. “N-Nothing.”

“You were just standing there for a while. Did you even hear what I said?”

“I did,” Asbel grumbled. “You think Richard is the prince.”

“I think it’s a _possibility_ ,” Hubert corrected him. “But it doesn’t matter now. I am positive the Council will get the truth out of him.”

The Council.

No! They couldn’t force Richard to reveal who he was. If he had tried so hard to hide it, not even telling Asbel, there had to be a reason. Richard was in danger!

Urgency clouding his mind, Asbel bolted towards the door— only for Hubert to grab his arm, stopping him so brusquely the two of them nearly tumbled to the floor.

“What are you _doing_?” Hubert blurted, tightening his grip on Asbel’s arm. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Richard, he… he…” _He needs me. I need to be with him._ Something inside Asbel told him this was true. He had to protect Richard; he was his prince, and… and…

“Wake up, Brother!” Hubert yelled, shaking Asbel by the shoulders. “You cannot simply storm into a meeting of the Council!”

Asbel opened his mouth to protest, yet he knew Hubert was right. Confronting the Council was unthinkable. Even if Richard was in danger.

Again, Asbel could do nothing.

* * *

Sleep did not come easily to Richard.

It was unsurprising. All his life, he had always struggled to fall asleep. He would lie in his bed, clinging on to the sheets, afraid that the moment he closed his eyes, an assassin would break into the room. No matter how many precautions he took, the fear never went away.

Yet when Asbel was by his side… it was different. Around Asbel, he felt safe. Even when they had been in the outskirts of Windor, the most dangerous region of the kingdom, Richard could close his eyes and sleep. All because Asbel was there.

And now, in the Council’s Tower inside the Hunter’s Order, the safest place in the world, Richard once more found himself plagued by his old terrors.

He knew it was silly. No one knew who he was - not yet. Yet the very air was heavy, foreboding. Whenever he began to drift off, panic rose in his chest, a part of him insisting that _something_ would go wrong if Asbel wasn’t with him.

Foolish. He would never sleep by Asbel’s side again.

Eventually, exhaustion overtook him, and Richard slept.

He dreamed. A dark room, with no windows. Himself, chained. He knew it was a dream, for his surroundings were blurry, and his body refused to move, his mouth refused to scream. He heard footsteps, fuzzy, but slowly approaching, and he knew something terrible would happen when they arrived. Every second they grew louder, thundering, filling him with utmost horror. He tried to will himself to wake, tried and tried and tried, yet over and over he failed, and the footsteps were closer, closer.

They arrived.

And at the height of his nightmare Richard awoke, gasping— only to realize _someone_ was holding his arm.

Panic.

Panic, panic, pure unbridled panic filled him, and he thrashed in bed, trying to get away from the intruder. His mind was muddled, he could not remember where he was, but he knew, he _knew_ more than anything that he had to get away. Yet the intruder was unyielding, and worse— more came, more hands holding him down, more hands than he could count, and no amount of trashing and kicking could shake them off.

Scream! He had to scream and call for help, but when he opened his mouth something was shoved inside it before a sound could come out. And from that something poured a bitter-tasting liquid, filling his mouth until he was on the verge of choking.

Once more Richard thrashed wildly, refusing to swallow the liquid— _poison_ , it had to be poison, they were trying to murder him like they had attempted so many times before! But another hand came and pinched his nose, and Richard couldn’t breathe, the room spinning, the intruders holding him down and he was choking, choking and the foul liquid was down his throat.

The world went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me when i started this fic: i promise i wont do any cliffhangers!!  
> me now: oops


	9. Traitor

Asbel held the ring Richard had given him next to his chest. When he closed his eyes, he saw Richard, standing in the sunset with his hair shining gold, the gentlest smile upon his lips. That moment would forever be burned in Asbel’s mind, no other memory as wonderful or as sweet.

He had lost track of how long he had been lying in bed, unable to sleep. All he wanted was to see Richard again. His aura was still in the Council’s Tower, still steady, and Asbel clung to it like a lifeline. Richard was fine. For now, he was fine.

But Asbel still worried. Did the Council interrogate Richard? What did they force him to reveal? While Richard’s aura indicated he had not been injured, it told Asbel nothing about how he felt. Was he afraid? Was he sad? Was he lonely?

Did he miss Asbel?

Asbel sighed, shifting to lie on his other side. Richard… _Prince_ Richard. It had been a shock to realize who he actually was. A shock, and a strange irony. As a child, Asbel had dreamed of being a knight, a dream that had been amplified when he first found out the crown prince of Windor was around his age. How excited had it made him, to think about becoming the future king’s most loyal protector! In Asbel’s childish mind, they would surely end up as best friends, working together to build a bright future for Windor.

He had buried those dreams away when he was forced to join the Order, the memories lost, forgotten. Yet now, they resurfaced. Stronger than ever.

Looking back, it _had_ been a silly dream. He had known nothing about the prince; the fact they were of an age was, by itself, meaningless. But he _knew_ Richard now. He knew he was kind, and gentle, and good, and brave. He knew he was someone worth living for.

Yet it was too late. Asbel was tied to the Order. He couldn’t turn back, not even for Richard.

Sleep. He really should sleep - there was no point in staying awake. What could he do if something happened to Richard’s aura? Run all the way to the Council’s Tower and storm in? Ridiculous. He was a hunter; he couldn’t defy the Council.

He could do nothing.

Resigned, Asbel closed his eyes. He had to let this go. Richard’s aura was there, and came morning, it would still be there. The Council had no reason to hurt him - how many times he had told himself that? - and Asbel would surely meet him on the next day. He had to believe that. He had to—

Richard’s aura disappeared.

Asbel froze. It was like the world had drawn to a stop. Like a part of him, a vital, crucial part of him, had been violently yanked out, leaving an abysmal hollowness in its place. It seemed unreal. Impossible. A nightmare.

But the emptiness remained. Richard’s aura did not return.

Asbel’s mind ceased to work. Moving faster than he ever had moved, he bolted out of bed, grabbed Excalibur, and dashed out of his room. He couldn’t think, not with all the desperation flooding his veins, not with his heart thundering in his chest. Only when he stepped outside and the cold night air hit his face did he realize what he was doing.

Yet he could not stop himself.

Asbel ran, ran and ran through the dead, empty streets of the Order. The curfew must still have been in place, for not a soul could be seen. All was so dark, so quiet, only his footsteps on the cobstones resounded through the night.

His muscles protested as Asbel pushed them to speeds he had never attempted before. He did not know what he would do, what he _could_ do. He just had to find Richard.

And finally, the streets opened into a wide plaza, with the Council’s Tower at its center.

Shrouded in darkness, the Tower was more ominous than ever. But Asbel did not fear it, could not fear it, not when he was already filled with horror for what might have happened to Richard. All he knew was that he had to break in. It didn’t matter _how_ , he had to—

Asbel noticed something from the corner of his eye.

Leaving the Council’s Tower were three hooded figures. They ran through the plaza, towards one of the deserted streets of the Order. One of them carried something large slung over a shoulder.

Right as they disappeared behind a building, Asbel caught a glimpse of golden hair.

All the urgency in the world filled his veins, and Asbel ran, ran even faster than he had before. He reached that street just in time to see the figures disappear into a corner - there was no question they realized they were being chased. Asbel gritted his teeth, pushing himself further, yet as soon as he caught sight of them, they turned into another street.

The game of cat and mice continued, the group disappearing down a corner, only for Asbel to follow and find them turning again. Multiple times they turned too soon for Asbel to see where they went, but the thumping of their footsteps gave their direction away. Asbel was faster than they were, he knew he had to be, and the Order only stretched so far. He would catch them! He had to—

Only then did Asbel realize the group was not turning at random corners, but going towards the dense forest that bordered part of the Order: the Orlen Woods.

Asbel almost missed a step. If he failed to catch up before they entered the Woods, tracking them would be all but impossible. Hunters lacked any tracking abilities beyond sensing vampiric auras. If he failed… If he lost Richard…

The last buildings of the Order were gone, only a stretch of grassland between them and the first trees of the Orlen Woods. The group of dark figures was already halfway through, running under the moonlight. They weren’t that fast! Asbel could do it!

Pushing himself to his limit and beyond, Asbel dashed towards them. His eyes were fixed on Richard, slung over one of the figure’s shoulder, completely motionless. But not dead. He couldn’t be dead!

Almost upon them, Asbel loosened his sword in its sheathe, hand over the hilt. And at that very moment the three figures stopped running, and turned towards Asbel. The one carrying Richard dropped him as if he was a sack of hay, making Asbel’s blood boil with rage.

He pulled back his hood to reveal bright scarlet eyes.

Without hesitation, Asbel lunged at him, unsheathing Excalibur and using the momentum of his drawn to strike at the vampire. His foe drew his own weapon almost too fast for Asbel to see, effortlessly parrying Asbel’s blow. Shocked by the vampire’s speed, Asbel backstepped, taking a defensive stance.

He heard the sound of swords leaving their scabbards. Asbel realized the vampire’s two companions had also removed their hoods, and now pointed their blades at him. One of them had the same bright scarlet eyes - another vampire with an invisible aura.

The other’s eyes were hazel. His blade shone with the silvery gleam of adamantine. And, to Asbel’s horror, he realized this man was one of the hunters who had escorted Richard to the Council.

“What are you doing?!” Asbel exclaimed, hands tightening on his sword hilt. “You are a hunter!”

The hunter’s lips curled into a smirk, and he charged at Asbel.

Asbel’s eyes widened. He barely raised his sword in time to parry the attack. The hunter scoffed, flicking his wrist to rotate his blade, now aiming at Asbel’s leg. Senses dulled by shock, Asbel sidestepped a moment too late, feeling a nick in his thigh from his opponent’s sword.

A hunter. He was fighting a _hunter_.

A chill ran down Asbel’s spine, but he had no time to dwell on it, for one of the vampires lunged at him. Asbel blocked the attack with his scabbard, pushing his foe back just in time to parry a slash from the second vampire. The hunter charged next with a thrust aimed at Asbel’s chest, and once more Asbel narrowly avoided it, ending up with a shallow cut in his upper arm.

A bead of sweat trickled down Asbel’s face; he couldn’t blame this fresh cut on shock. Three enemies, all proficient fighters, and Asbel still weak from having his blood drained on the previous evening. It was like that last fight, on the clearing in the outskirts of Windor… No, it was worse, for Richard was lying on the floor, motionless, his vampiric aura completely gone. Was he really alive? Asbel couldn’t allow himself to dwell on the question, or he would end up dead at one of his foes’ blades.

He had to win if he wanted to save Richard.

The enemy hunter charged again. Asbel blocked with Excalibur, throwing his weight into the parry to push the hunter back. Yet before he had the chance to counter-attack, one of the vampires was upon him, sword slashing towards Asbel’s neck. Asbel dodged, throwing himself on the grass and rolling to fall back and regain his footing.

As soon as he tried to stand, pain flared on one side of his waist. A throwing dagger, crimson with blood, was buried on the ground next to him; another inch to the left and it would’ve been lodged in his stomach. The second vampire, who stood apart from his two companions, had sheathed his sword and now held a set of daggers, ready to throw.

Asbel forced himself to stand despite the pain, hoping that his clothes, now clinging to the wound, would slow the bleeding. The first vampire and the hunter took an offensive stance, prepared to charge at any moment. So that was their plan? Distracting Asbel with close-range attacks, so that their partner could finish him off with throwing daggers?

Asbel gritted his teeth. Cuts on his leg, arm, and waist, each a deeper one. Would he make it after the next? He couldn’t remain on the defensive. Not if he wanted to survive.

Taking a deep breath, Asbel charged.

The two close-range attackers flinched in surprise, but Asbel wasn’t going for them; at the last moment, he sidestepped, and lunged at the vampire with the daggers. The vampire dropped his knives and fumbled for his sword, unsheathing it at the last moment. His parry was clumsy, almost amateurish - it was clear that swords weren’t his main weapon.

That was Asbel’s chance. With a flick of his wrist, he spun his blade, raising it high and bringing it down with all his strength. The vampire managed to block, but his form was poor, and the impact of the blow sent him off-balance, leaving him wide open.

The next moment, Excalibur pierced through his chest.

The vampire fell to a soundless death, crumpling to the floor as Asbel yanked his blade back. But he had no time to celebrate his small victory, for the other two foes were upon him, faces contorted in rage.

After losing their companion, their attacks were even more ruthless than before. Whether it was from sorrow over the loss of a partner or desperation and fear of death, Asbel could not tell. A barrage of slashes and thrusts fell upon him, cutting shallow gashes in his arms and legs as he hopelessly tried to defend himself.

By the time he finally found an opening to backstep to safety, pain flared all over his body, warmth flowing from multiple wounds. Asbel panted, exhaustion and blood loss catching up to him. He had felled one foe, but how long could he keep fighting? He hadn’t been able to inflict a single scratch on the two remaining enemies. They were too fast, always ready to parry, their swords a blur.

_Their swords…_

The hunter’s adamantine blade gleamed under the moonlight, but the vampire’s sword was dark steel. If Asbel wanted to win…

Bracing himself, Asbel sheathed Excalibur, and charged at them.

This time his foes switched to a defensive stance immediately, swords held high, ready to parry. At the last moment Asbel pulled Excalibur out of its scabbard with all his strength, his slash powered by the momentum of his drawn. Adamantine clashed against steel with a loud, powerful _clank_ , the impact of the blow coursing all the way to Asbel’s shoulder.

He gritted his teeth at the pain, spun his sword and brought it down once more. His blade clashed against the vampire’s, the cry of metal on metal resounding among the trees. Over and over Asbel attacked, as fast as he could, not bothering with finesse or precision. It didn’t matter that the vampire blocked all his blows. All Asbel needed was strength, pure and raw strength.

The enemy hunter, stunned by Asbel’s mindless barrage of attacks, was late to rush to his companion’s aid. When he finally charged, it was slow and cautious, so cautious that Asbel easily dodged his blow.

Asbel had to buy himself time. He charged at the hunter with the same reckless strength he had used against the vampire; the hunter parried easily, but on the moment their blades met, Asbel rose his leg and kicked the hunter straight on the stomach. He was thrown back through the air, crashing down and rolling on the grass many feet away from Asbel.

Asbel had no time to chase after the hunter. The vampire was upon him, slashing straight at his neck. Rather than dodging, Asbel met his blade with Excalibur, throwing his weight into the parry. The vampire recovered quickly, preparing another attack, but Asbel was faster— again, he swung Excalibur straight at the vampire’s sword, ignoring everything he had been taught about swordplay.

The vampire gritted his teeth in annoyance, and tried to fall back for a counterattack, but Asbel gave him no quarter. Again and again he slammed Excalibur on the vampire’s steel sword, blind, furious blows, his muscles crying from fatigue, his arms burning with pain.

Until, finally, the vampire’s sword shattered.

Scarlet eyes widened in horror as half of the steel blade spun through the air, lodging itself on the grass. And then Excalibur plunged into his shoulder, slashing deep into his torso as his scream pierced the night.

_Only one left_ , Asbel thought as he pulled his blade from the vampire’s corpse.

He caught a glimpse of something from the corner of his eyes, and when Asbel turned, he found the hunter charging at him.

Asbel raised his sword to parry the blow. The pain that coursed his arm when blades collided was unsurmountable. Asbel gasped, nearly dropping Excalibur, fumbling to put some distance between him and the hunter. His backstep almost made him lose his balance, his eyes struggling to focus on the enemy in front of him.

_I’ve lost too much blood!_

The hunter smirked, taking slow steps towards Asbel. His grip on his sword was almost lazy. Asbel panted, struggling to even hold Excalibur in his exhausted arms.

“Who would’ve thought,” the hunter said mockingly, “that the Wielder himself would come to us? I’ve always wanted to know what brandishing Excalibur feels like. Seems I will find out soon enough.”

Asbel’s hands tightened on the hilt of his sword. “Why?” he asked, voice trembling. “Why are you fighting alongside vampires?”

The hunter shrugged. “I’m just placing myself on the winning team. Nothing personal.”

He raised his blade, pointing it at Asbel, and lunged.

Asbel braced himself— but the attack never came.

Instead, _something_ collided with the hunter, sending him tumbling to the grass in a tangle of limbs. Asbel saw a flash of gold, and his breath caught in his throat.

_Richard!_

He was alive. He was _alive!_

The hunter growled as both he and Richard rolled on the ground. He trashed, kicking Richard away from him, and then fumbled to stand. His eyes widened in horror; in the mess, his sword had fallen from his hand, and it now sat on the grass, a few feet away from him.

_Now!_

That was his final chance. As the hunter desperately dove for his blade, Asbel charged, swinging Excalibur with the last of his strength.

The hunter’s fingers closed around his sword, and Excalibur cut through his neck.

It was over.

Asbel panted, chest burning with exertion, eyes locked on the body at his feet. Dead. The hunter was dead, beheaded, his lifeless hand clinging to the adamantine blade. A human. Killed by Asbel’s hand.

_Don’t think. Don’t think!_

Shaky hands returned a bloody Excalibur to its sheathe, and Asbel ran to Richard.

He was still lying on the grass, supporting himself with unsteady arms. Heart aflutter, Asbel knelt by his side, placing an arm around his waist to help him sit.

“Richard, are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened? What did they do to you?”

Slowly, Richard lifted his head, lips curling into a relieved smile as his scarlet eyes met Asbel’s. When he spoke, his voice was frail, “Remember what you told Sophie, Asbel? You’re going to overwhelm me with all those questions.”

For a moment, Asbel was speechless - then, he laughed, laughed until the wound in his waist began to hurt. “I’m… I’m so glad you’re alive, Richard. When your aura disappeared, I thought…” his voice trailed off. “You saved me. You saved my life.”

“And you saved mine.” Richard smiled, placing his hand upon Asbel’s, squeezing it weakly. “I am fine. Just… very dazed. Everything around me is spinning. They forced me to drink something… it must’ve been a sedative.” His gaze trailed away from Asbel’s face, and suddenly his eyes widened. “Asbel, you’re wounded!”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine!” Well, maybe fine was pushing it, but he was sure he wouldn’t die. Almost sure. “Most of those cuts are shallow.”

Richard frowned in concern. “The one in your waist does not seem so.”

Asbel glanced down. His shirt was completely soaked with blood. He tried lifting it, but the fabric was stuck to the wound. “Hey, it stopped bleeding. See?”

Richard paled. “It will become infected! Asbel—”

“Richard, it’s okay! Hunters don’t get infections.” Well, hunters _rarely_ got infections, but Richard didn’t need to know that. “I’m gonna be fine. Please, trust me. I… I need to know how you’re hiding your aura.”

Richard’s worry was replaced by confusion. “What do you mean, Asbel? I am not doing anything.”

“But your aura is gone. Completely gone.” Asbel paused. “You said they made you drink something, right? Did they do anything else to you? Please, tell me everything that happened.”

Richard closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “After I met with the Council, I was sent to a room. I slept. When I woke, strangers were holding me down. In the panic, I couldn’t tell how many, but…” Richard glanced around. “I suppose it could’ve been three. One of them forced something down my throat— it tasted bitter, and I assumed it was poison. I fell unconscious as soon as I drank it. I woke to the sound of a fight, and when I opened my eyes, you were…” Richard swallowed. “You were battling that hunter.”

A chill ran down Asbel’s spine. Again, he felt sick.

“Wait… wait here,” Asbel muttered, and stood.

He walked over to the dead hunter. It wasn’t easy to hold down the urge to empty his stomach at the sight of blood pooling under the corpse. Holding his breath, Asbel reached inside the hunter’s shirt, and pulled his hunter’s badge out. The inscription on the back of the medallion identified him as Nathan Reed, Hunter of the Sixth Division.

Holding the bloodstained badge made Asbel feel very cold.

“Asbel?” Richard called out. “Asbel, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Asbel lied. “I want to see if I can find anything that might explain how they made your aura disappear.”

He rummaged through the hunter’s jacket, checking every pocket. Nothing. Asbel moved on to one of the vampires, the one with the throwing daggers. Nothing in his pockets, but hanging from a leather thread around his neck was a small vial.

Asbel took it from the corpse and unscrewed the little lid. It was filled almost to the brim with some sort of liquid. He took it back to where Richard sat, and showed it to him. “That thing they made you drink… could it have been this?”

Richard shook his head. “That vial is too small. What they forced into my mouth was more akin to a canteen.”

Asbel left the vial with Richard, and went to check the other vampire. Around his neck was a similar vial, also nearly filled to the brim. But hanging from his belt Asbel found two identical canteens.

He brought them to Richard, along with the vial. One of the canteens was full; the other was almost empty.

“The empty one must be the one,” Richard muttered. “They likely brought a second in case I started to regain consciousness.”

Asbel glanced at the vials. “Both vampires had these. And none of them had an aura. Do you… do you think…?”

Richard’s eyes widened. “Whatever is in it makes their aura disappear?”

“Yes. They must have mixed it with a sedative in the canteen, and… given it to you.” He trailed off, staring at the vials. The Council needed to know about this. But…

Asbel stuck them in his pocket. “We should go. Can you walk?”

“I… I believe so, with some help.” Richard paused, a hint of anxiety in his voice. “Are we returning to the Order?”

Asbel did not answer. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the outlines of the buildings of the Order. The Council’s Tower was not visible; he had gone too far in Richard’s pursuit. On his neck, his hunter’s badge was heavy.

But the vials in his pocket weighted far, far more.

“I think… I think we should leave.”

Richard understood. He nodded soundlessly, a somber expression in his face.

Times were grim, so grim that even the Hunter’s Order was no longer safe.

* * *

The effects of the sedative wore off, but Richard still felt dazed. All that had happened since his arrival at the Order seemed like a strange dream.

He and Asbel walked through the Orlen Woods, the sky beginning to clear with the approaching dawn. They had been moving tirelessly since they left the Order, no breaks or respites. Richard glanced at Asbel every few minutes, anxious that his wounds might reopen, but thankfully, he never saw any new bleeding.

He had told Asbel of his meeting with the Council, but it was hard to celebrate its outcome. Asbel would go silent at any mention of the traitorous hunter, gaze falling and shoulders slumping. While Richard had always expected betrayal and treachery at every corner, Asbel had held the Order as the pillar of righteousness in the world. To know a single one of its members was corrupt was a painful blow.

As much as Richard had wanted to travel with Asbel again, that was not how it was supposed to go.

Now that their enemies’ bodies were not around to haunt them, Richard wondered if leaving the Order had been a wise decision. The threat of Cedric’s spies among the hunters was terrifying, but was it really worth it to set off alone, wandering the Orlen Woods aimlessly? Maybe they should turn back. Maybe they should…

His stomach twisted at the thought of returning to the Order. No. Not yet. Hidden in the vast Orlen Woods, they were safe. Even if they had nowhere to go.

The first sunrays peeked through the dense tree canopies. Richard glanced up, squinting his eyes; it would be a bright day, but within the Orlen Woods, he would be sheltered from the sun.

“Do you want to stop and rest?” Asbel asked. “There’s a cliffside around here, so we should be able to find a cave.”

Asbel’s breath was laborious, his face pale from blood loss. Richard wasn’t tired, not yet, but…

“We should take a break,” Richard said, mustering a smile. “Let’s find a place to rest, Asbel.”

The cliffside was dotted with little grottos, most too small to provide any shelter, others filled with animals that they didn’t want to disrupt. Eventually, they found a well-sized cavern that seemed to be empty, and ventured inside.

Asbel sat against one of the walls, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. He held one of his hands against the gash in his waist.

“Asbel,” Richard said tentatively, sitting by Asbel’s side. “May I take a look at your wounds?”

Asbel’s eyes opened at once. “What? I’m fine,” he said, laughing awkwardly. “I just need to rest for a bit.”

“You look anything but fine,” Richard protested. “What if any of them reopen?”

“It’s okay. Most of those cuts are too shallow.”

Richard frowned. “The one in your waist isn’t.”

“That… is true.” Asbel’s gaze fell. “But we have nothing to bandage it with, Richard. And it’s not bleeding right now, so as long as I take it easy, I can make it to Lhant.”

Richard blinked. “To Lhant?”

Asbel’s cheeks flushed. “I… I was about to tell you that. If we keep heading East through the Orlen Woods, we should arrive in Lhant within a few days. I mentioned it to you a long time ago, so you might not remember it, but… it’s my hometown.”

“I remember it,” Richard said, smiling. He would never forget anything Asbel said to him.

“Right.” A smile also tugged at Asbel’s lips. “Your aura is still gone, and I think we can keep it hidden if you drink what’s in the vials we took from… from _them_.” Asbel’s voice wavered. He paused, swallowed, and then continued, “It’s true that the vampires would still be able to feel my aura, but there are so many hunters in this region that I doubt they could track us. We’ll be even safer in Lhant, where we can hide in my family’s manor.”

_And then?_

But Richard couldn’t voice the question.  That would have to wait until the time came.

Asbel soon fell asleep from exhaustion. Richard stayed awake, watching Asbel breathe slowly through half-parted lips, his expression so soft, so serene. Such a stark contrast with the dried blood on his cheek.

The horror Richard had felt when he opened his eyes to see Asbel struggling against two foes was still fresh on his mind. He had been desperate to help, but no matter how hard Richard willed his body to move, the sedative would not allow him to stand. But when he saw Asbel on the verge of being killed, Richard summoned enough strength to charge madly at the attacker. In retrospect, it had been incredibly foolish to literally _jump_ at a hunter wielding an adamantine blade, but Richard really hadn’t been thinking.

All that mattered had been Asbel’s survival.

Asbel shifted in his sleep, sliding down the wall until his head fell on Richard’s shoulder, making Richard’s heart skip a beat. Time and time again Asbel had given his all for Richard’s sake, asking nothing in return. Even as Richard hid everything from him, Asbel still offered his boundless devotion. How could Asbel go so far for him?

Richard did not deserve it.

Unconsciously, he reached out to brush a strand of hair from Asbel’s sleeping face. Richard allowed his fingertips to trail the outline of Asbel’s cheek, descending to his jaw and then pausing on his half-parted lips. Only when he felt Asbel’s warm breath on his fingers did Richard realize what he was doing.

Blushing fervently, Richard withdrew his hand, the movement so brusque that Asbel’s eyes fluttered open. For a moment, he looked dazed; then, he realized he was resting against Richard’s shoulder, and his face went crimson.

“S-Sorry,” Asbel stuttered, sitting up straight. “I fell asleep.”

“It’s fine,” Richard said with a smile, trying to cover up his own embarrassment. “You must be exhausted, Asbel.” _You can sleep on my shoulder for as long as you’d like_ were the words he wasn’t brave enough to utter.

As always, Richard was a coward, unable to speak what shouldn’t be left unsaid.

“How are you feeling?” Asbel asked, suppressing a yawn. “Are you tired?”

“Only a little,” Richard said. “But we can rest here for as long as you need, Asbel.”

“Don’t worry about me.” Asbel smiled. “If you’re fine, we should go.”

Before Richard had the chance to reply, Asbel stood. His face contorted into a grimace as he did so, his hand once more looming over the wound in his waist. But he quickly covered it all with another smile.

“Asbel,” Richard protested, standing so they could speak eye-to-eye. “You shouldn’t be moving. Please, let us rest here until nightfall, at least.”

Asbel shook his head. “We can’t waste time. They might be searching for you, Richard. I need to take you to Lhant as soon as possible.”

“Asbel, you are in no condition to travel. We can afford a day of rest. Please.”

“No,” Asbel insisted, voice firm. “I don’t want to risk it, Richard. I will not let them take you.”

“And I will not let you _die!”_

Only when Asbel’s eyes widened did Richard realize he had shouted. Why? Why did Asbel always go so far for him? How could he be so caring, so selfless, while Richard…

While Richard never gave him anything in return.

“…Richard?”

Asbel was looking at him, those bright blue eyes filled with concern. Asbel always worried so much for him, and never enough for himself. There was so little Richard could do for Asbel.

“Please sit, Asbel,” Richard murmured. “I… I must tell you something.”

He thought Asbel would protest, but instead, he went down without a word. As Richard sat next to him, he wondered how he would go about this. His stomach had already tied into a knot of anxiety.

“You often asked me questions that I couldn’t bring myself to answer,” he began, throat feeling drier than parchment. “I hid so much from you, and yet… you still trusted me. You were still so kind to me. I… I am sorry for keeping this from you for so long.”

Asbel’s eyes were fixed on him, wide with anticipation. Richard balled his hands into fists to prevent them from shaking. He had always been so good with words, yet now, they all escaped him.

“I… I never told you who I truly am.” Revealing this to anyone terrified him almost as much as facing his uncle’s vampires. But this… was Asbel. He forced himself to go on, “I… am…”

Asbel’s stare was so intense he was not even blinking. Gazing into those eyes, Richard was robbed of his voice. What if Asbel didn’t believe him? What if their relationship was forever changed? Unable to go on, Richard’s gaze fell to his lap, his chest tight with regret for even bringing this up.

“Are you…” - Asbel’s voice suddenly filled the silence - “…the Prince of Windor?”

Asbel’s words crashed down upon him like a glass vase filled with ice. For a long moment, Richard was dumbfounded, struggling to believe he had not dreamed Asbel’s question. Then, finally, he blurted, “You _knew?”_

“N-No!” Asbel’s face went crimson. “I-I mean, I didn’t know until last night. Before then I had… I had no idea. But last night, I…” - he dropped his head in shame - “…I accidentally mentioned your real name to Hubert. He said you might be the prince, and then… I realized it made sense.”

Richard’s gaze fell, guilt washing over him. So Asbel had already found out. He must have resented Richard for keeping this from him for so long. Yet even so, Asbel came to his rescue on the night before. Did he only come because he thought he had a duty towards the prince?

“Richard…” Asbel muttered, voice shaky. “I’m sorry. I promised I would keep your name a secret, and yet… I’m so sorry. I betrayed your trust.”

Richard’s eyes widened. “What? Asbel, no! I am the one who is unworthy of your trust. You always did so much for me, and despite everything, I hid this from you. I… I am truly sorry.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me, or… that it would create a distance between us.”

Richard stared at his lap, unable to meet Asbel’s eyes. Somehow, he was sure he had ruined everything, that their relationship would never be the same. Asbel wouldn’t be able to trust him after Richard had hid something so major from him. Asbel would no longer speak to him as casually, as warmly, now that he knew he was the prince.

He saw Asbel shift, and wondered if he was moving away.

But instead, Asbel’s arms wrapped around him.

Shock and disbelief made Richard freeze. Asbel held him close to his chest, enveloped in a warm embrace. Richard felt Asbel’s heartbeat, pounding, pounding so, so fast.

Without thinking, Richard slid his arms around Asbel’s waist, pulling him closer.

Asbel’s breath hitched, and in the next moment he tightened the embrace, burying his face in Richard’s neck. “I missed you,” he whispered against Richard’s skin. “I missed you so much.”

Richard’s vision grew blurry, and he blinked back unshed tears. “I missed you, Asbel,” he whispered in return. “Thank you. Thank you,” he repeated, voice breaking.

Asbel held him even tighter, and Richard was no longer afraid.

“I don’t… I don’t want to have a distance between us,” Asbel muttered, fingers clinging to Richard’s clothes. “So… even if you’re the prince, is it okay if I keep treating you the same?”

Richard pulled back, just enough to meet Asbel’s eyes. “Of course,” he said, unable to hold back a smile. “Nothing would make me happier, Asbel.”

Asbel’s face lit up in a wide grin, and he squeezed Richard close one last time before finally letting go of the hug. “I’m… I’m glad we got to talk about this. I was wondering if I should pretend I didn’t know…”

Richard’s chest tightened. “I am truly sorry for not mentioning it earlier, Asbel. I… I really should have.”

“N-No! Don’t worry about it, Richard. I understand why you would be nervous to reveal that. It’s fine, okay?” Asbel smiled, that warm, genuine smile that always washed away all of Richard’s fears.

If only Richard could convey a fraction of his gratitude through words.

Asbel sat back, placing a hand on the wound in his waist. “I… I think you are right. I really should rest a bit. I will be fine by sunset, I promise.”

“Please don’t rush yourself, Asbel,” Richard said, voice soft with affection. “Take as long as you need. If anything happens, I will protect you.”

“Thank you, Richard.” Again, Asbel smiled, making Richard’s heart flutter. “And… thank you for telling me about yourself, too.”

Richard returned Asbel’s smile, but his words instilled something in his chest. There still was so much he hadn’t told Asbel. So much Asbel did not know about him.

Asbel leaned against the wall, lids heavy with sleep. He blinked slowly, yawned, shifted in his spot to a more comfortable position. Richard waited, wondering if he would fall asleep. Wondering if there would be another chance.

“Richard?” Asbel suddenly asked, sitting up straighter. “Everything okay?”

Richard’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment; he realized he had been staring at Asbel. “Forgive me,” he muttered. “I was simply… lost in thought.”

“Well, what is it?” Asbel smiled. “You can tell me anything.”

Richard’s chest was tight. There would be no other chance. No other moment such as then.

“There is… indeed something else I would like you to know.”

Asbel leaned forward, unblinking.

With a deep breath, Richard finally said, “I want to tell you how I was Turned.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will be a backstory one!


	10. The Prince’s Turning

Richard had long known that one of his greatest flaws was to regret too much. Words he shouldn’t have said, or that shouldn’t have been left unsaid; deeds he should have done, or actions he wanted to undo. So much he wished he could change, so many memories that burdened him. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not stop regretting - and worst of all, his greatest regret was something he could never undo.

For he wished he had never been born to the royal family of Windor.

It had not always been so. At first, Richard had dreams. Dreams inherited from his idealistic father, dreams of turning Windor into the greatest kingdom in the land, a place of freedom and hope. As a child, he had thought that dreams alone could change reality, that with enough determination, one could achieve anything.

He was still a child when he found out he was wrong.

The world was harsh. People were cruel. Treachery and selfishness were everywhere. And even kings, standing tall atop their castles, could not change it.

His uncle, Archduke Cedric, was the one who taught him that.

From an early age Richard would hear Cedric’s whispers, about how he could trust no one, about how he needed utmost caution, about how everyone in the kingdom wanted to exploit him. Richard disliked his uncle, but even so, Cedric’s words seeped into his young mind, instilling in him the seeds of fear and mistrust he would carry for the rest of his life.

Cedric whispered not only to Richard, but also to his father. To the King, Cedric’s whispers were sly advice, urgings that the young prince had to be sheltered from the dangers of the world, carefully locked away in the safety of the castle. To Richard’s dismay, King Ferdinand listened.

And so, throughout his childhood, Richard was rarely allowed to leave the castle. His outings were few and far between, closely controlled by the king.

Thus, Richard looked forward to them more than anything. He sailed along the shores of Barona, seagulls singing and wind rustling his hair. He visited Duke Dalen in his manor amidst Lake Grale, where the water was warm and the shores were covered in soft, soft sand. And he ventured to that one hill on the North of Barona, to watch the plains of Windor stretch as far as the eye could see, verdant and serene.

But even that was taken away from him after the first major attempt on his life.

Richard had been eleven. In the dead of night, an assassin broke into his room. Luckily, the royal guard came to his rescue before he was mortally wounded, but Richard did not escape unscathed. He suffered two deep cuts— and for a month he lay in a feverish haze, teetering on the verge of death. Poison on the assassin’s blade, the doctors said. He was very fortunate to survive.

Following the incident, Richard was forbidden to set foot outside the castle. It was too dangerous, his father had said, even though the assassination attempt had happened in Richard’s very room. Worse yet: Richard knew, _somehow_ , that the confinement was Cedric’s suggestion. He wanted to keep Richard locked away, a prisoner in his own home. Why, Richard could only guess.

He began to suspect Cedric. The man was ambitious and ruthless, always vying for power and influence. Family ties would not stop him from seizing what he wanted - of that, Richard was sure.

It was on a rainy evening, throat dry and hands clammy, that Richard approached his father in private to speak of his suspicions. Ferdinand listened patiently and carefully, but at the end of Richard’s speech, he shook his graying head, reminding his son that no one should harbor such ill feelings towards their own kin. Cedric was his brother and Richard’s uncle, and he would never dream of harming either of them.

That night, Richard’s pillow was soaked with bitter tears.

His following years were forlorn and dark. Trapped inside the castle and not knowing who to trust, Richard spent his days alone, losing himself in books and imagination. Richard’s dreams were no longer about leading Windor into a better future, but of being someone else - someone who was not the crown prince. If he closed his eyes, he saw himself as a pirate, pilfering from rich merchants and donating to the poor; or a vigilante, roaming the streets of Barona at night, protecting the weak from the powerful people who would take advantage of them. Or even just a common peasant boy, free to go wherever he pleased.

But Richard’s thoughts were not only spent in fantasy. As time passed, his suspicious about Cedric grew, and Richard began to investigate all he could about his uncle. Maybe, if he found definitive proof that Cedric was a scheming traitor, he could convince his father to imprison him.

With every eavesdropped conversation and stolen letter, Richard was more and more certain that Cedric planned on usurping the throne. But nothing he found was concrete enough to be unmistakable evidence. He needed more.

By his twentieth summer, Richard knew he was close. And on that same summer, when he was on the verge of unmasking Cedric’s ploys, Richard was finally allowed to leave the castle again.

The news came as a shock… and as a blissful surprise. Heart soaring, Richard left his suspicions behind. His father told him he could spend the rest of the summer in Duke Dalen’s mansion in Gralesyde, and Richard accepted without a second thought. He felt like a child again, basking in true happiness for the first time in years.

By King Ferdinand’s order, Richard was to make the trip by land, within a comfortable carriage accompanied by a large entourage of royal guards. Richard would’ve preferred a ship through the Foselos, but he offered no complaint. He was too joyful to see fault in anything.

They left on a clear morning, on the very break of dawn. Richard had to keep his windows locked before they left the city, but as soon as they went past the walls, he opened the curtains to feel the warm sunlight on his face.

A part of him thought this was the beginning of something wonderful.

The rest of the day was uneventful. Night fell, and Richard watched the starts, heart aflutter, until he was lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking of the carriage.

He woke not long after to the sound of screams.

 _Bandits!_ It had to be bandits, Richard thought, fumbling for his rapier among his belongings. Outside, he heard the first sounds of clashing metal, the screaming growing louder. Richard’s hand tightened on the hilt of his blade, fear welling in his gut. He would be safe. A dozen guards were escorting him. He had to be safe!

His carriage toppled over.

Richard gasped, tumbling among pillows to fall on his back, pain flaring as he hit the wall of the carriage. Panic began to rise in his chest. Both of the carriage doors were inaccessible, one pressed against the ground, the other too high for Richard to reach. The screaming voices and clashing metals went on outside, unending.

Swallowing his terror, Richard turned to the back window of the carriage, now in shatters. With his scabbard he broke some of the larger remaining pieces, and then slowly squirmed through it. Glass tore through his clothes and cut into his flesh, but with all the fear in his veins, Richard hardly felt it.

And the fear was only magnified when he stepped out of the carriage and saw what awaited him.

Half of his guards were dead. The rest fought a losing battle against the four remaining bandits. Remaining? No, Richard saw no enemy bodies— they were really only four in all. Impossible.

But it was true. The bandits’ strength and speed was unnatural. During the brief moment Richard spent watching the fight, yet another of his guards fell. It was only a matter of time until they all were dead.

Richard’s hand tightened on his rapier. He could not stand against those foes. He could not help his men.

As the crown prince, it was his duty to save himself and let them die.

Clenching his jaw, Richard sheathed his rapier and ran, ran towards the woods that bordered the road. His stomach twisted with revulsion at the thought his people were fighting and dying for him. He should have been able to do more. He should have…

Someone jumped from a tree right in front of him.

 _Another bandit!_ Richard thought, seeing the sword in the stranger’s hand. Not thinking twice, he immediately unsheathed his rapier and lunged at the attacker. Still dazed from the fall, his foe took too long to react, and Richard’s blade pierced through their gut.

The bandit raised their head slowly, and… smiled.

Their eyes shone a horrifying scarlet.

Richard had no time to scream. Ignoring the sword impaled in its body, the creature lifted its own weapon, and brought the pommel upon Richard’s head.

During the split second before he was knocked unconscious, Richard was sure he would not live to see the dawn.

It would’ve been better if he hadn’t.

* * *

Richard opened his eyes to darkness.

His entire body ached, cuts stinging, head pounding with pain. His back was sore, sore from lying on the hard floor— no, not the floor, a pallet, but with a mattress so thin it might as well have none. Chains bound his wrists and ankles, restricting his movement so much that he could not even sit up.

A nightmare, he thought. It had to be.

Wake up. Wake up, wake up, he told himself, over and over. But with each time his surroundings became clearer, the pain in his wounds shaper. He saw bars. A cell. A cell within a dungeon. His heart began to race. Why couldn’t he wake up? When would the nightmare end?

He heard footsteps.

Closer. Closer.

The cell smelled of mold. The chains in his wrists were cold. The footsteps echoed in the dungeon. Closer. Even closer.

The light of a flickering oil lamp flooded the room. They arrived.

And leading them was none other than Cedric.

“Our little prince is finally awake,” Cedric said, lips curving into a disgusting smirk. “I hope you slept well, sweet nephew.”

Richard’s blood went cold. The pain from his wounds flared again, overwhelming, yet they were nothing, nothing compared to the horror now flooding his veins. This was no nightmare. It was real. It was _real_.

Cedric loomed over him, his smirk widening, amusement in his amber eyes. Horror turned into panic, and Richard trashed against the chains, as if his feeble body could somehow break them. A nightmare! It had to be a nightmare!

Cedric _laughed_.

“I wonder what Ferdinand would say if he saw his precious son squirming so pathetically. If only I could’ve brought him here, too.”

Richard froze at once, Cedric’s words ringing in his ears. Real, real, too real, of course, his uncle was despicable, worse than any man who had ever lived. Panic was now rage, boiling inside Richard’s veins. “I knew you were a traitorous snake!” he yelled, eyes narrowing with fury. “Monster! Usurper! Kinslayer!”

Once more Cedric laughed, loud and merry, as if Richard had told a good joke. The disgusting sound echoing in the chamber made Richard want to scream.

“You knew, didn’t you, Richard?” Cedric said, voice buoyant with amusement. “You always knew, and what good has it done you! Clever little prince, captured and taken to a remote dungeon, locked inside a cell at the mercy of his evil uncle.” Cedric leaned down, so close Richard could smell his foul breath. “You call me kinslayer, but you are mistaken. My plans are nowhere near as crude. No, Richard, I have thought of something much, much better.”

Before Richard had the chance to retort, Cedric’s hand was under his jaw, pushing his head back against the pallet. Richard gasped, struggling to breathe. Was this the end? Choked to death by Cedric’s own hand?

But Cedric’s fingers did not tighten enough to choke him. He just stood there, staring down at Richard with that disgusting smirk, watching his labored breathing as Richard tried to break free from his grasp.

“Poor, poor Richard. You have always been so weak,” Cedric said, pushing Richard’s head back even further, pain flaring on his strained beck. “But don’t worry, my boy. I will give you power and strength beyond your wildest dreams.”

Cedric leaned closer, looking into Richard’s eyes with a monstrous, hungry gaze. Then, he opened his mouth—

And to Richard’s horror, his canines were horrifyingly long.

He had no time to scream before Cedric buried those fangs into his neck.

Pain, so much pain, as if a dagger had sunk into his skin. And then pleasure, disturbing and unnatural, nauseating, so much worse than the pain. Richard wanted to cry, scream, push that awful monster away, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t open his mouth, couldn’t make a sound, couldn’t move an inch. He was trapped in his own body while the man he hated the most drank his blood.

Tears welled in his closed eyes. There couldn’t be a worse way to die.

On and on it went, his blood being drained, his limbs paralyzed, and the disgusting pleasure refusing to disappear. His mind started to wane, everything around him fading, everything but the horrid, all-consuming pleasure. Dying, he was dying, and all Richard hoped was for it to come soon. Let this end. Let all of this end!

Cedric pulled back.

And all at once everything came back— coldness, so much coldness, a wall of ice upon him, and pain, all the pain the pleasure had been suppressing. His lungs were collapsing, his heart struggling to beat. Everything around him spun, his vision darkening, his ears ringing. He would die. In a moment, Richard knew, he would die.

“Has there ever been sweeter blood?” Cedric’s satisfied voice, seeming so, so far away. “Bryce. Do it.”

A silver-haired man leaned over Richard, his features blurred, undistinguishable. All Richard saw was bright scarlet in his eyes. There was the flash of a knife, and then crimson, crimson dripping into Richard’s mouth.

_Life._

Richard’s consciousness faded.

* * *

All he felt was pain.

Pain, pain in every inch of his body, excruciating, mind-shattering. There was nothing else in the world, nothing, nothing but pain. A scream resounded, far away, and he realized it was his own. His body contorted, convulsed, wooden pallet creaking, metal shackles clattering. And screams. More screams.

His consciousness wavered, the pain becoming too much.

Yet he woke to the same pain. No— stronger, it had to be stronger. So strong he could not remember ever sleeping, ever being unconscious, ever feeling anything other than pain. He could not remember where he was, what had happened, why the pain was so great. Even his own name escaped him. His mind had room for nothing. Nothing but never-ending agony.

His body was shattered apart, formed anew and shattered once again. He wondered if he even had a body anymore, or if he had stopped existing and only that endless pain remained. And then he wondered nothing, thought nothing, and even the word _pain_ lost its meaning.

Maybe that was what being dead felt like.

Richard would never know how long he spent in that limbo, slipping between half-consciousness and oblivion, overwhelmed by otherworldly pain. But he survived.

And finally, he awoke.

The pain wasn’t gone. He wondered if it ever would be, or if it had become a part of him, a fundamental part that would never leave. But it no longer consumed all of him. He remembered. Who he was, where he was, and _what_ had happened. He remembered.

He wished he didn’t.

The dungeon was still dark, but somehow, he could see better than before. Even his hearing seemed keener, for he heard footsteps, distant, far more distant that he should have been able to perceive. Again, they approached, until light from a flickering lamp flooded the room, blinding. Richard squinted against the light, and when his eyes adapted, Cedric was looming over him.

His stomach sank with dread.

“You’re finally awake,” Cedric said, looking down on him with contempt. “Took you long enough.”

Richard tried to curse him, but his throat was so hoarse only a hollow sound came out.

Cedric smirked.

“I have a gift for you, sweet nephew.” He turned around, and gestured to the brown-eyed guard that held the oil lamp. The guard nodded, placed the oil lamp on the floor, and left the room in a hurried pace.

Cedric turned back to Richard, smirk wider than before. “It will be here shortly.”

His tone sent a shiver down Richard’s spine.

The wait seemed to last an eternity, but Richard knew less than a minute had passed when the guard returned, dragging a shackled man by the arm. The man’s clothes were dirty and haggard, his eyes sunken with exhaustion. When those tired eyes met Richard’s, the man grew pale and began to tremble.

“Not a delicacy by any means,” Cedric said, voice laced with amusement. “But it will have to do.”

The man’s trembling grew stronger. He seemed on the verge of collapsing.

Something was going on. Something obvious. Something that Richard’s mind refused to process, refused to admit. No. No.

“Why the blank expression, nephew?” Cedric’s tone was mocking. “I thought you were sharper than this.”

 _No_. No, no, it couldn’t be, Cedric was playing him, trying to make him believe this absurdity in order to torment him. Cedric only wanted to torture him, he would never, he could never, it was impossible—

“Do you truly refuse to see what you’ve become?” Cedric scoffed. “Pathetic! You are even worse than your father. Even now, you cling to the weak creature you used to be. Don’t you realize you have changed? Don’t you realize you’ve been born anew?”

Like a child, Richard closed his eyes, as if that could block out Cedric’s words, make him disappear. He heard Cedric’s footsteps, approaching him, and then Cedric’s hand was upon his neck.

Richard’s eyes flew open in panic.

“Look at me, nephew.” His eyes were the coldest amber. “You will drink that peasant’s blood.”

Bile rose to Richard’s throat. Even in the darkness, he could see every detail of Cedric’s horrifying face. Cedric’s slow, controlled breathing was loud in his ears, a contrast with the guard’s hurried panting, and the peasant’s desperate gasps. Richard should not have been able to hear so much, see so much. And his wounds… they no longer hurt. He was in pain, yes, but not from the cuts and injuries he had sustained during his kidnapping. The pain was from… from…

“N-No,” Richard managed to mutter, voice weak and feeble. “I-I won’t.”

Cedric’s smirk was back, even more disgusting than before. “No, you say? We will see.”

He let go of Richard’s throat with a brusque movement, and walked towards the guard and the trembling man. Eyes full of contempt, Cedric grabbed the peasant’s arm, yanking him forward. The poor man began to weep, low sobs breaking from his lips. Cedric dragged him to Richard’s pallet, pulled on his dirty hair, and pressed his exposed neck against Richard’s lips.

The man smelled of sweat, grime, and terror. Richard turned his face away, gasping, a revolting feeling rising in his stomach.

A revolting feeling of hunger.

“Follow your instincts,” Cedric growled, pulling on the peasant’s hair so hard Richard was afraid his neck would break. “Do it, boy.”

Sick, sick, Richard felt sick. Something inside him urged him to bury his teeth in that man’s skin, but the very thought of doing it made him want to empty his stomach. “N-No,” he muttered again, more vehemently this time. The effort made his throat hurt.

Cedric sighed, pulling the man away and throwing him to the floor. He remained where he fell, holding his legs to his chest, shaking as he wept.

“Bring the youngest,” Cedric ordered, and the guard left.

Moments later, he returned, dragging behind him a crying boy, no older than ten.

When the peasant man saw the child, his eyes widened in horror.

“Richard,” Cedric said, “Will you drink this man’s blood?”

Richard could not muster a word. All he did was stare at his uncle, his own eyes as horrified as that of the man trembling on the floor.

Cedric sighed, shaking his head. “You were always too soft. Just like your father.”

He gestured to the guard. The guard nodded, pulling a dagger from his belt and holding it close to the child’s throat.

For the first time, the peasant man made a sound: a loud scream, “ _NO!”,_ resounding in the room.

And he screamed again, even louder, as he stood and tried to dash towards the boy— but Cedric was faster, grabbing his arm and keeping him in place. The main flailed, crying and pleading, “Not my son, not my son, please! Take me, kill me, but spare him! Please!”

The man was looking straight at Richard, swollen eyes filled with tears.

It had to be a nightmare.

Cedric led the man towards Richard’s pallet, and once more pressed his neck against Richard’s lips. “Do it, Richard.”

He couldn’t. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t will his mouth to move.

_“Do it.”_

“I-I can’t,” Richard blurted, his vision growing blurry.

Cedric scoffed, pulling the man away. He glanced at the guard, and nodded.

With a flick of his dagger, the guard slit the boy’s throat.

An agonizing scream filled the chamber. Not the boy, no, he died soundlessly, crumpling to the floor like a rag doll. But his father screamed, screamed and screamed, the most piercing, painful sound Richard had ever heard. The man broke free from Cedric’s gasp - or maybe Cedric let him go - and ran to his son, kneeling on the floor next to his unmoving body. He held the dead child close to his chest, weeping, crying out the boy’s name.

Richard closed his eyes, tried to block out the sound. But the sight of the man holding his dead son was burned into his brain, those deafening cries ringing in his ears.

“Richard,” Cedric said.

Richard didn’t respond, couldn’t bring himself to react. He wished it had been him instead of the child. He wished he had died ten years ago, when Cedric first sent an assassin after his life.

“Richard,” Cedric repeated, firmer. “The man has two more children.”

Richard’s eyes flew open.

Cedric’s face was made of stone, his stare colder than a winter storm. Richard knew he was not bluffing. He would take as many innocent lives as it took to achieve his goal.

The man was a monster.

Cedric turned around, walking towards the peasant man, who was still on the floor, clinging to his son’s corpse. He grabbed the man’s arm, yanked him up, forced him to let go of what remained of his child. The man made no sound, nor offered any resistance.

For the third time, Cedric pressed his neck to Richard’s lips. The man’s shirt was soaked with his son’s blood, his silent tears falling on Richard’s skin.

Richard couldn’t move.

“Remember, nephew,” Cedric whispered, voice sharper than a dagger. “You are the one who killed that boy.”

Trembling, Richard closed his eyes and buried his teeth into the man’s neck.

His blood was revoltingly sweet. Overwhelming, unnatural, as unnatural as the awful pleasure he felt when Cedric had bitten him. And that disgusting pleasure was there, too, once again flooding his veins, clouding his mind, consuming him until he felt nothing else. He wanted to stop, more than anything he wanted to _stop_ , but his body was no longer his own.

He drank. He drank, drank, and drank, until there was not a single drop of blood left for him to drain. Only then did Richard pull away, gasping for breath, while the peasant man slid to the floor, dead.

“Good boy,” Cedric said, his voice sounding so distant, even though he was standing right next to Richard. “You did that peasant a favor. He was weak and miserable, unfit to live. You took his life, and added it to yours. Through you, he will become something greater. Something he could never have dreamed of being.”

Richard did not reply, did not react. He only stared at the ceiling, gaze lost, his satiated stomach twisting with nausea and disgust at what he had done. Cedric laughed.

“Sleep well, nephew,” he said, turning around. “I will return tomorrow.”

His parting words rang in Richard’s ears.

* * *

Cedric returned on the next night, as promised. Two guards came with him, one holding a flickering oil lamp, the other dragging a shackled woman.

She was that man’s widowed wife.

It was the same nightmare, Cedric pressing her neck to Richard’s lips, demanding him to drink her blood. Once more Richard couldn’t will his mouth to move. That nauseating sweet taste was still in the back of his throat, even stronger than the awful, disgusting hunger in his stomach. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t.

Cedric killed the woman’s second son.

The boy had struggled, attempted to fight the guard. He must have been in his older teens, tall and brave and strong enough to resist. He managed to pry the dagger out of the stunned guard’s hand, but the second guard cut him down with his sword before he had the chance to fight back.

Unlike his younger brother, his death had not been quiet. His dying cry would forever haunt Richard’s dreams. His dying cry… and Cedric’s claim that, again, Richard was the one who had killed the boy.

When Cedric pressed the weeping woman’s neck to his lips for the second time, Richard drank her blood.

He learned. From then on, no matter how much it repulsed him, he buried his fangs on whoever Cedric brought to him. All of them were commoners, simple farmers, men and women and children and elders who cowered the moment their eyes fell upon Richard. Some screamed, some wept, some resisted.

Richard killed all of them.

That excruciating pain he had felt began to fade, growing duller whenever Richard drank blood. But when the pain finally disappeared it was replaced with hollowness, empty and terrible, a haunting feeling that Richard was becoming a monster as awful as his uncle.

He would have preferred the pain.

With every person Richard killed, his hatred for his uncle, and for himself, grew. He wondered how long Cedric would keep this up - what was his goal? To make Richard lose his mind, to break him? To make him beg for death? Or maybe Cedric just enjoyed watching him suffer. Maybe it was all some sort of amusement to him.

How wretched could that man be?

Regardless of his goal, Richard was sure he could not stand this for much longer. If Cedric’s purpose was to break him, he would succeed, soon enough. In a way, Richard longed for it. Longed for the day when his mind would shatter and free him from all of this.

But the answer would come soon. For one night, after Cedric forced him to drink yet another innocent’s blood, he grabbed Richard’s chin and looked deep into his eyes.

“Not bad, nephew. Soon, you will be ready.”

And he left, providing no explanation. His cryptic words haunted Richard’s mind.

The very next day, Cedric did not come. Instead, it was Bryce, scarlet eyes shining in the darkness as he dragged a young boy behind him. He pressed the child’s neck to Richard’s mouth with the same forcefulness Cedric used, and in his eyes, it was clear he would murder as many innocents as it took to make Richard drink the boy’s blood.

Richard obeyed. He had lost the strength to resist long ago.

Cedric did not return on the following night, nor the next or the one after. Richard did not see him anymore. It was always Bryce, as cruel and harsh as his uncle.

He did not know what to think anymore. In fact, he was beginning to lose the capacity to think, his mind beginning to wane from however long he had spent in that dungeon, chained to that pallet. Weeks? Months? Years? It felt like forever.

Nothing would change. He was sure nothing would change.

…And yet, one night, it did.

“Your Highness… Your Highness, please, wake up!”

Richard opened his eyes, dazzled. Something was wrong; that was too early for feeding. And that voice… was not Bryce’s.

The man looking down at him had brown eyes, and wore the clothing of a simple guard.

“Forgive me for waking you,” he whispered, voice anxious. “I must tell you something, Your Highness.”

Richard blinked, wondering if he was dreaming. Ever since he was captured, no one but Cedric and Bryce had ever direct a word at him. The guards were always silent, always averting their gaze. And they never visited Richard alone.

“Your Highness?” the guard asked, brow furrowing in concern. “Can you… can you hear me?”

“Y…Yes,” Richard muttered, shocked at how hoarse his voice sounded. He had gone so long without saying a word that he almost forgot what speaking felt like.

“I-I’m glad,” the guard said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I… I came to tell you that Archduke Cedric departed to Barona a fortnight ago.” His eyes shifted around the empty dungeon, as if someone might appear out of thin air. Once he confirmed they were alone, he finally continued, “In a week, a carriage will come to take you, as well.”

Richard’s eyes widened.

“Archduke Cedric, he…” - the guard swallowed - “…he plans to expose you as a vampire. He knows it will turn the populace against you, and by extent, against King Ferdinand—while he will be lauded as the hero who brought the evil prince to light.” His gaze fell. “His goal is to… to have you publicly executed and the King deposed, so that the throne will be his.”

The guard’s words rang in Richard’s ears, so impossible, so unreal, he struggled to believe he had heard them. “That cannot be true,” Richard said, barely aware of the tremble in his voice. “Cedric himself is a vampire. He’s the one who… who…”

“I… I know,” the guard muttered. “But somehow, he doesn’t have red eyes. And he can stay under the sun, too. Maybe he isn’t even burned by adamantine.” His gaze fell. “No one would believe he was a vampire. Meanwhile… forgive me for saying this, Your Highness, but your eyes are very red. That’s all the people will see.”

A chill ran down Richard’s spine, spreading to his entire body, freezing him to the core. So that was Cedric’s plan, his goal all along. And how clear was it now! If Cedric had ordered the assassination of Richard and Ferdinand, suspicion would eventually fall upon him. But by turning Richard into a vampire… that would not only taint his name, but Ferdinand’s, as well. How could anyone trust a monster’s father?

And ultimately, Richard would be despised by the kingdom he always wanted to protect, and executed by the very demon who had made him into this.

“Your Highness,” the guard’s nervous voice broke Richard from his thoughts. “I… I want to help you escape.”

_What?_

“I’m… I’m not alone in this, You Highness. Almost all of us working in this fortress - those of us who are still human, that is - have agreed that this is what we must do. When we… when we joined Archduke Cedric’s cause… we had no idea what he really was. We thought we were doing the best for the kingdom. The truth is…”

The guard’s voice faded. He swallowed, and avoiding Richard’s eyes, continued, “We thought Archduke Cedric would make a good king. The kind of king Windor needs in those dark times. We thought… I apologize, Your Highness, but we thought you were too sheltered and weak to rule.” He fidgeted, as if expecting Richard to reproach him. When no reply came, he went on, “On the other hand, Archduke Cedric… he is strong, and fearless, and resolute. So we flocked to him. Many of us did.”

His gaze fell. “But we never expected he would turn out to be so vicious, so cruel. The last thing we want is a monster sitting upon the throne of Windor. If we knew… If we knew, we would rather have given the crown to a gentle man like you.”

The guard grew silent; his words weighted heavily upon Richard. _Too sheltered and weak to rule._ And that was the truth, wasn’t it? Cedric had done his best to keep him from leaving the castle, true, but what had Richard done against it? He could’ve protested more, fought harder for his freedom. But he didn’t.

He really was too weak.

“It’s too late to regret it,” Richard murmured, the chains on his wrist feeling very cold.

“I-I’m sorry,” blurted the guard, lowering his head in shame. “I wish I could undo it. We… we all do. But if we help you escape… it will foil Archduke Cedric’s plan. He won’t be able to expose you at the capital, the throne will not be his, and… your name won’t be tarnished. It would be unfair if… if Your Highness was the one to suffer the humiliation when His Grace is the real monster.”

Richard was silent, unable to reply.

“This place we’re in… it’s an abandoned fortress, a few miles away from the circle of the Inner Cities. There are almost no towns or villages nearby, so few hunters patrol this region. If you travel straight north, you can make it to the outskirts of the kingdom. There, you can… you can survive, Your Highness.”

Survive. That was all he could do from now on, wasn’t it? He could never go back to the life he had. Even living in the castle, locked away, was now beyond him. Wherever he went, his eyes would reveal him as a monster.

“Your Highness…” the guard paused, hesitating. “When the Archduke realizes we have allowed you to escape… he will surely execute us. So, please, before you go… if you… if you could…”

Richard froze.

“…If you could drink our blood…”

“No.”

The guard’s eyes widened in disbelief. “B-But… Your Highness, when you leave this place and travel towards the outskirts, it might be days before you can find a… a human to feed on. And also… myself and the rest of the guards have heard that death by a vampire’s bite is painless. We would rather die helping you survive than to have the Archduke execute—”

 _“No,”_ Richard repeated, with all the strength he could muster. “I’m sorry, but I… I cannot. I will never do that again. Once I am free from this place, I will never drink a human’s blood again.”

Richard knew what that meant. And so did the guard.

He apologized, bowed one last time, and left.

* * *

In a week, it began.

Bryce came to him at the usual time, but he was accompanied by a dozen guards. After making Richard kill one last human, Bryce forced him to drink something from a canteen - a sedative. And Richard fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

He woke inside a carriage, wrists and ankles bound by chains. Two guards were with him - one of which was the man who had come to him the week before. They nodded to each other, and freed Richard.

“Sir Bryce is in the carriage ahead of us,” the guard from before whispered. “But the driver is one of us. He will keep Sir Bryce’s carriage going forward, while we stray from the road.”

Richard listened.

“Sir Bryce will not… hesitate to kill him. And he will follow us as soon as he does. But while a carriage is easy to track, someone on foot is not. There are plenty of woods nearby, Your Highness. Our plan is to drop you off in one of them, then drive away. Sir Bryce will follow us, thinking you are with us. By the time he realizes you are not, you will be long gone.”

And Bryce would kill all of them, Richard was sure. He could not let this happen. “How many horses are pulling this carriage?” Richard asked. “If you were to individually ride and scatter, most of you could escape.”

The two guards exchanged glances. “We… we are unsure if this would work, Your Highness.”

Richard’s chest tightened. “But please do try.”

They nodded, but it lacked any conviction. Maybe those men had already resigned themselves to die. Richard wished he could convince them otherwise, but it was hard to persuade someone to live when he himself also wanted to give up.

Once Richard was completely free of the sedative’s effects, the plan was sprung into motion. Their carriage left the path amidst yells and exclamations of surprise, while Bryce’s transport sped forward down the road.

They didn’t know how long they would have before Bryce took control of his horses and chased them. Their driver pushed their animals to their limit, their carriage moving as fast as it could. When they reached the edge of the nearest woods, Richard opened the carriage door, wind buffeting his hair.

“We will slow down so Your Highness can jump!” the driver bellowed.

“No!” Richard shouted. “Keep going as fast as you can, or Bryce will catch up to you!”

The driver ignored him, preparing himself to pull on the reins.

Without thinking twice, Richard jumped.

A bad idea, a _terrible_ idea, was all he could think as he flew through the air, watching the ground approach. He had been tied to a pallet for the last months, not walking, not even moving. His legs would break as soon as he hit the earth!

But they didn’t. Instead, he landed with more balance and dexterity he ever had in his life.

His body barely felt the impact of the fall. Effortlessly, he stood, awed by how _strong_ he felt despite being bed-bound for so long. But he had no time to marvel. He had to run.

And run he did, faster than he ever had before. On and on he went, dodging tree roots and boulders as if he had been running in forests all his life, his speed never dropping, his body never tiring. Towards north he ran, never looking back.

He really was no longer human.

Dawn broke, and finally, Richard collapsed from exhaustion. He slept, a tired, dreamless slumber. When he woke, night had fallen, and the stars shimmered in the sky, bathing him in their pale glow.

Richard stood, and ran again.

Running, running, that was all he had left. When he ran, he thought not of the past he left behind, or of what kind of future lay ahead of him. He only had to escape. Be as far from Cedric as he could.

When dawn broke again, Richard sought shelter in a cave. Exhausted, he slept. It was dusk when he awoke, the sky ablaze with orange, streaks of clouds tinted pink.

Richard’s stomach twisted with hunger.

He tried to ignore it.

All he could do was run, run until the first rays of the sun shone in the sky, run until he collapsed and slept. One night, he passed by a stream, flowing with crystalline water. But drinking it did not feel refreshing; he might as well have been swallowing air. He also found berries, ripe and heavy in their bushes, but they tasted like nothing. No matter how many he ate, the hunger persisted.

One evening, a week after his escape, he woke with a strange pain in his stomach. It irradiated to his body, spreading over his torso and to his limbs, sharp, pounding. It instilled something in him; an urge greater than he had ever felt before.

That night, Richard caught a squirrel. It squirmed in his hand, clawing at his fingers to escape, so small, so fragile. Richard couldn’t bring himself to do it. He let the squirrel go.

Three days passed, and the pain worsened. It consumed his thoughts, clouded his mind, called out to him, a desperate plea. Driven by the pain, Richard caught a rabbit, and drank its blood. It tasted beyond revolting, and made him feel very sick. Worst of all, the hunger and the pain remained, as strong as before.

He hunted no animals ever since.

Once more, he began to lose track of time. How long had it been since he left Cedric’s dungeon? Three weeks? Three months? It mattered not. He would never speak to another person again. Soon, the kingdom would declare him dead. Maybe they already had.

Every day the hunger became worse, the pain more unbearable. Part of Richard wanted to end his life. He knew his future held nothing, he knew the pain and the hunger would never fade. Once, still running north, he passed by a cliff. He walked slowly to its edge, and glanced down, wondering if the fall was enough to kill a vampire. But just looking gave him terrible vertigo, and he staggered back, dropping down on the grass. He couldn’t do it.

He wondered if Cedric would have called him weak.

Many times he spotted villages, dark buildings against the starry sky. Richard would’ve wished for nothing more than to approach them, to have another person to talk to, or even to sit in silence in the presence of a human being. But he knew that as long as he had scarlet eyes, he would not be welcomed anywhere.

Richard lost all sense of time, but he was sure he had been traveling for at least a month when he came across an abandoned mansion, hidden deep within a forest. Intrigued, he wandered inside, dodging cobwebs and broken furniture. On the second floor, he found a section of the mansion where dust wasn’t so abundant, and where some furnishings remained intact.

He was already far into the outskirts, where hunters rarely came. Maybe it was time to stop wandering. This was a place where he could stay.

It took a while to clean away all the dust and gather what little furniture could be used, but if there was something Richard still had, it was time. And while rummaging through the mansion, Richard found books. Most of them fell apart as soon as he pulled them out of fallen bookshelves, but some had survived, their moldy pages still legible. He kept them.

Over the next months, Richard lost count of how many times he read through those tomes. That was all he could do to pass his time; that, and watching the stars.

The hunger grew, unyielding. One day, it would kill him, Richard was sure.

But instead, Asbel came.

And everything changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks everyone who has read this story so far! we've now reached 10 chapters and over 50k words... i never thought this fic would come this far when i started it, and i know i wouldn't have made it without your support, so thank you so much for the encouragement and feedback!
> 
> there will be a brief pause before the next chapter since i'll be working on a few fics for richass week! if you don't know what it is, i totally recommend you to check it out: http://richardxasbel.tumblr.com/richassweek2016
> 
> i hope to publish a new chapter sometime in august. again, thanks everyone for all the support, and i hope to post more soon!
> 
> 2017 EDIT: sweats.............i guess i did not publish a new chapter sometime in august. i've gotten some questions about when/if i will resume this fic and i'd like to leave a note here that i DO plan on resuming it (and i really do want to finish it someday, no matter how long it takes! it's one of my fave fics that ive written) BUT unfortunately i don't know when i will be able to publish the next chapter. writing scarlet eyes takes much longer for me than any other fic due to the extent of the world and plot (im drowning in notes for this fic send help), which is why it's rly hard for me to just pick it up after leaving it for so long.
> 
> this got way too long for what was meant to be a short edit sweats ANYWAY THANKS AGAIN FOR READING THUS FAR AND I HOPE TO BE BACK WITH A NEW CHAPTER SOONER RATHER THAN LATER


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